


Not A Virtue

by bat (bateroo)



Category: Constantine (2005)
Genre: Angels vs. Demons, Complete, F/M, Gen, Occult, Paranormal, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-02-26
Updated: 2005-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-15 12:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 27,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18073751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bateroo/pseuds/bat
Summary: After preventing Mammon from crossing to Earth and saving the world, John Constantine watches the human race do a complete 180 and embrace religious fervor. Of course, it's just not natural, so Heaven charges Constantine to solve their little Cherubim problem.Only, John finds it's not so easy to make a Cherubim sin. He's going to need a little help on this job.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based on the 2005 film "Constantine", starring Keanu Reeves. Yes, a television series has come and gone since the time the film was released, but it's one of my guilty pleasures. This story was previously published elsewhere in 2005. It is presented here with minor edits and grammatical changes but otherwise intact. It won't make a lot of sense if you haven't seen the film; it has zero to do with the short-lived NBC drama based on Hellblazer/Constantine.
> 
> Writer's Note: Any characters, settings, events, etc. created for and found in the movie "Constantine" belong to Warner Bros/DC Comics and the respective creators/writers. Used without express permission for the sole purpose of fan fiction, without the intent of infringement. Please don't sue me. All original characters, the plot and events of "Not A Virtue" and its original attributes were created by and belong solely to the author. They are not to be used/manipulated by anyone else for any other project.

"I thought angels were punctual." John Constantine grumbled as he stood in the dark cemetery. Although one of the oldest and most architecturally beautiful cemeteries in the world, Calvary really should be viewed during the day, not the dead of night.

In the old days he would have smoked 15 cigarettes by this point, but now a days there were no Lucky Strikes for him. Instead he'd chewed half a pack of Chicklets. Probably got held up singing God's praises or something.

"Come on, Chaz. Time's wasting here." John walked another quarter circle around the tombstone that bore the name of his one-time apprentice. Gabriel had killed him, smashed Chaz like a rag doll, while Constantine was trying to prevent Mammon from crossing planes of existence. Lucky Chaz had been born again into Heaven's bosom and made a half-breed.

Lucky, _lucky_ Chaz Kramer.

"Patience is a virtue, Constantine. Remember?" Chaz crouched slowly on top of his tombstone, as John turned back to look. The giant wings folded back with soft whispers.

"It's about goddamn time. I mean, you're the one who made the appointment and then you're late." Constantine jammed his hands into the pockets of his black trench coat.

"Things came up." Chaz folded his arms as he took a seat on top of the stone. "I knew you'd get the message."

"But of course. It's hard not to notice when the two dimensional ink drawing of St. Elizabeth of Schonau starts talking to you like it's an every day occurrence." John popped another Chicklet into his mouth and chewed hard.

"You've noticed what's been going on." Chaz stated.

"What's going on? You mean how Los Angeles has become the revival capital of the planet? Churches are filled to capacity twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week? How movie production ceased, then studios started churning out pictures based on everything religious, including short films based on Jewish mythology? Movie stars, rock musicians, self-proclaimed Satanists, _all_ finding Jesus and repenting, now shilling Christ on TV." John raked a hand through his hair. "Christ, even the porn industry up and folded. Jenna Jamieson became a born-again virgin!"

The headlines screamed the changes: fifteen hundred souls re-born at a church service in Beverly Hills, a revival at the Staples Center attended by twenty-five thousand people. Disneyland opening its gates for prayer meetings and baptism services. Marilyn Manson, himself the once self-described Anti-Christ, had repented and taken a vow of celibacy, effectively ending his musical career. It all seemed a little nuts and over the top, but this was the City of Angels.

Chaz waited silently for his former boss to stop. "You've seen him."

"Who?" Chaz gave Constantine a look.

John really wanted a cigarette but his vow held. "You mean Andrew. Yeah, he's hard to miss on TV. I think his company owns every major network affiliates in LA now. You can't watch TV, read a newspaper, or listen to the radio without hearing about him. What the fuck about him?"

"He's a Cherubim. Higher then the Archangels..."

"I saw the double wings Chaz. I know."

"And the highest of God's attendants below the Seraphim."

"Yeah, yeah, God's personal cheerleaders. It shows. The guy never shuts up about how awesome God is. I do have a subscription to the _Times_."

"He's misleading all humanity." Chaz said nonchalantly.

"...what?" Constantine nearly choked on his gum. "Wait a minute."

Chaz nodded. "At first it wasn't tipping the balance of influence. But it grows, his influence. His ministry is becoming more powerful by the second, beginning to rival the influence of the Church herself."

"Absolute power corrupts." John nodded.

"There are shady dealings within the ministry, seeds planted. No one knows why God let Andrew leave, granted him this course of action. The power is going to Andrew's head. He's grown an ego."

"I thought all angels had egos. Being all holy and close to God." John's deadpan had not lost its perfection.

"A _sinful_ ego. He's still connected to God, at this moment. The line is but a thread, no more. The attention, the praise, the worshiping is being turned towards Andrew, as though he were the Holy Father, the shepherd of mankind."

"You want me to take him out."

"You couldn't, not in the conventional ways. He's not tipped the balance yet." Chaz slid off the tombstone and padded around his human grave. Both man and angel saw the ghosts that walked the cemetery; the ghosts saw them. Constantine tightened his shields up. None of those ghosts were his problem.

"Then what has to happen?"

"He has to commit a sin."

"Oh yeah, that'll be easy. 'Mr. Cherubim, please, take the name of God in vain!'" John scoffed. Why were these problems never as simple as he wished? "Any hints on how I'm supposed to go about this?"

"You're already on the right track." Chaz smiled.

"One of the commandments. Break one of them. The holiest of God's laws."

Chaz's wings spread before John could blink. "Time is of the essence." A mighty flap and the half-breed vanished into the dark sky. John looked up at the faint stars, barely visible above the bright lights of the city and the haze of pollution.

"I love time constraints. Working under pressure always makes me feel better." John turned and headed towards the cemetery gates.

He hailed a cab on Whittier Boulevard. As he slid in, he let his mental shield slip a bit to see what was driving the cab. Refreshingly, it was human and not demonic. Would wonders never cease?


	2. II

Rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, the sigil tattoos on his forearms seeming to soak in the light and turn darker, John sat down at the table in his apartment. Sure, he'd been given a third chance at life; sure he'd had the cancer ripped from his body and his lungs were now cleaner then when he was born. Sure he'd never touch another Lucky Strike or any tobacco-filled product ever again (and it was torturing him, but he never went back on his word) but it certainly didn't mean he couldn't drink. He poured a finger width of Jim Beam into the glass in front of him.

"Up next, seeing if I can survive cirrhosis of the liver." He toasted no one visible and drank silently, feeling it burn down his throat and warm his belly. He'd not eaten tonight. He'd been slightly nervous (him, nervous?) after receiving the message through the drawing. Heaven didn't exactly charge him with missions very often. Sure he was back in good graces, he might even get to go to Heaven when he died. That was a ways off though. Who knew what might happen between now and then.

So. The Ten Commandments. _Where was Charlton Heston when you needed him?_ John thought, flipping through them in his mind. The first three were out. Andrew obviously had one God, would never take His name in vain, and wouldn't make any idols, since he could totally see God on his own. Besides, the guy was crusading to _bring_ people to the Lord, not down a false path. Those were out.

The fourth. The guy always kept Sunday holy and practically lived at the church anyway. That wouldn't work. Five was out; Andrew had no earthly parents. Getting him to either murder or steal... although you could sort of see Andrew stealing the money out of peoples' hands to fund his ministry... it wouldn't work. He'd know you were trying to get him to kill someone and people were giving their money freely. And an angel, especially a cherubim, would love his neighbor and never covet.

"Damn." John sighed. He ran through the commandments again in his mind. Wait. The seventh Commandment: adultery. Could it be possible? He knew demons came with the proper equipment first hand, but did angels? Sure they wore a human suit but were they anatomically impaired like Ken dolls? Could an angel even want something as sinful as sexual gratification?

John poured more whiskey into his empty glass. It certainly had been a long time since he'd had sexual gratification, of any decent sort. Sure, there'd been some pity situations while he'd been dying of the cancer, but he knew he was getting laid out of pity and that just ruined a lot of the charm. Then he'd met Angela Dodson. She'd seen him at his worst _and_ at his best. There was a spark there as well; he'd felt it physically and psychically.

But then he'd gotten busy and not returned her calls, skipped lunch dates. He just wasn't good at women he liked. All the years of hardening himself against getting attached, physically and emotionally, they just hindered any chance at breaking the wall down to someone who might actually love him.

The battle against Mammon and Gabriel had ripped away the last few people in his life that were his true friends. Chaz, Father Hennessey, and Beeman. He sucked down more whiskey to burn the welling sadness in his chest. Fucking angel had gone Looney Tunes and his best friends were dead in the wake.

He was running out of people to turn to, out of favors to call in. Finishing the last dregs in the glass, he rose, slid on his trench coat and headed downtown.


	3. III

In the midst of a desert, there is an oasis. In the land of born-again Los Angeles that was Papa Midnite's. The holdouts in the industry who hadn't converted and the demon half-breeds still came to enjoy the darkness and let their tails down still had a safe place to go. Business was brisk again this evening, although there were no outward signs of it. To be caught red handed in a business of ill repute now could completely kill your career if you were thought to be one of the born-again.

Funny how things change, yet don't really.

Constantine moved down the sidewalk towards the club's front doors, receiving more smiles then he'd given out in a lifetime. Everyone was friendly to everyone. 'Love thy neighbor!' was being practiced and not just preached. It gave John the creeps. He missed the days when no one in LA gave a shit.

He had just opened the door when three figures ran out. A blonde girl, young looking, dressed in a Hot Topic 'goth in a box' getup. A boy probably the same age, hair freshly sprayed black with temporary dye, dressed in black vinyl. A third female, this one older. Something hit his psychic feelers. There was something to this one. He paused as the trio hurried onto the sidewalk, got as good a look at her as he could. Her hair was long, shockingly bright orange. She too was dressed in black but it became her, suited her like kid gloves.

Just as John took the last step inside the girl turned, her gaze meeting his.

Her eyes were pitch black. He blinked, startled. They did not glow like a half-breed's. They were flat, lifeless black. Immediately he cracked his shields, seeking her life force, to find out what she was. Their eye contact not broken, it felt almost as if time stopped. John and the girl were the only ones left on the street, even though traffic and people flowed by them like a river.

Constantine reached out and felt a _ping_ against his mental touch. She was human. Not demon, not angel. Certainly not a half-breed...

**_Please, no. Don't._ **

John recoiled as their eye contact was broken and the girl's friends grabbed her hands, dragging her on and getting lost in the crowd. The plate glass door swung shut in John's face as he stared after her. She'd spoken to him, but he heard her words inside his mind. She'd felt him probe her mind and had mentally admonished him to stop. The touch of her mind lingered in his, like a warm caress.

Telepathic. She was a telepath.

John filed the knowledge away. It was comforting to know he still had fellow freaks left in Los Angeles.

The main club upstairs was pretty empty except a few Japanese businessmen who crowded around the bar. The El Carmen wasn't the hot spot it had once been, but it was only a front, a cover for what went down behind the scenes. John moved swiftly across the empty dance floor towards his destination.

He started down the steps. Why did this bother him? All kinds, God and Satan knew, came to Papa Midnite's. She was certainly one of the least to worry about. He tried shoving the image of her face from his mind but it wouldn't leave.

"Excuse me." The new bouncer interrupted. A huge Chicano with a tattoo of a python wrapped his left arm, an apple in its jaws. He was holding up an over-sized playing card, the image of leaping dolphins on the side that faced Constantine.

"You know, I knocked out the last guy who held your job. One punch." John said, casually. No dice. The guy still held the card up. "Was worth a try." John focused on the card and let his inner eye open. "A duck with an umbrella."

The Chicano bouncer placed the card back on the table, face up to reveal the duck holding a paper umbrella, and reached to unlock the velvet rope. John ushered past and into the belly of the second floor. His eyes adjusted to the dim mood lighting. A lot more empty tables on what would have been a crowded Friday night not two months ago. He wondered if this was putting Midnite in a bad mood. He'd find out soon enough. Reaching the back wall he stood in front of the seamless door and waited, his presence made known psychically. There was a very long moment before the door slowly cracked open.

"What now, John?" Midnite sat at his desk, writing something on a paper. "Haven't you caused enough trouble lately?"

"I _did_ save the world, you know." Constantine stood at the edge of the desk, the brass orrery just off to the left of him. It looked balanced, but John never could really tell. It wasn't like Midnite let him get a decent look at it. "Still waiting for my parade. A commendation from the President. My statue."

"What _now_ , John." Midnite repeated, an edge creeping in his tone.

"Heaven has charged _me_ with a mission. I'm still getting over the amusement." John reached in his top inner pocket, fingers seeking the familiar cardboard box. Instead they found the plastic sheet of Chicklets. Damn. Was that ever going to go away?

"What does Heaven want?" Midnite did not look up as he placed the signed papers into a leather folder and handed it off to a waiting minion. "Not that I really care to be asking, after the last incident."

"To push Andrew over the edge and fix the scales." He popped a Chicklet free of the foil. Midnite looked down at the orrery.

"This 'problem' isn't showing up."

"Well, not just yet." Constantine held the gum between the tips of his fingers. It just didn't have the familiar feel like a cigarette. "They're becoming unbalanced and I just sort of need to tip them over the edge. Help things along as it were, then fix them."

"You know I'm neutral. Why are you bothering me?" Midnite folded his long ebony fingers on the desktop, looking up at John with dark eyes.

John thought. This wasn't exactly a normal question to pop on anyone. "Let's just say, hypothetically, since we know the half-breeds are wearing a human suit..."

"Spit it out, Constantine."

"All the equipment is there? Just like for humans, the same for a Cherubim in a human suit?"

Midnite grinned, his teeth ivory. "What, you have an eye for the angel?"

"Fuck no!"

"Then why are we talking about the sexual anatomy of angels?"

"I figured I could use a Commandment, one of God's laws, and get Andrew to break it. But you know, out of all of them, I could only figure on adultery being the easiest to break. But it occurred to me that there might be complications with that if angels were anatomically impaired..."

"They aren't."

"You know, like a Ken doll or some... they aren't?" Constantine stopped. The gears turned. "I'm not going to ask why you know that answer." Midnite only continued his leering grin. "Okay, that answers that."

"You have a plan?" Midnite rose, pushing the chair in. "Or are you going in blind?"

"Come on Midnite, you know me."

"Blind it is."


	4. IV

Constantine stepped into the cushy, richly decorated lobby of the church. Cooling air conditioning bathed his face, a much needed change from the blast furnace outside the doors. His shoes sank into the plush carpet.

"Ugh." He grumbled.

All around him humans and half breeds moved about their work, the angels mentally singing the praises of their Holy Father much like Snow White taught the world to whistle while it worked. John pulled his mental shields tighter as he walked, noting which eyes glowed and which didn't as his presence was noted. The half-breeds had to know exactly who he was. He was just _known_.

"May I help you, sir?" A human man in a cream colored suit stepped forward towards John, his perfectly white teeth beaming. Caps of course. No human was born with bleached teeth.

"I was just looking around." John vaguely motioned to the surroundings. _Just casing the joint,_ _h_ e thought.

"Do you already attend one of our daily services or are you new to the flock?" The man kept smiling warmly in brotherly love.

"Let's just say I know where I'm going when I die." John faked a smile and moved into the sanctuary.

"If you need anything, just ask for Jim!" the man called after. Constantine made a non-committal nod and continued on.

The sanctuary was huge; during the first weeks of the revival pretty much any building was consecrated to God and used to house the growing numbers of the reborn as they worshiped. Some of the more established churches had come together and formed what was the flagship of Andrew's ministry. Our Father's Church had once been a medium-sized office park and within a month had been refitted into a massive church with an over-sized sanctuary smack in the middle. Members of the congregation and their businesses had freely provided labor and almost over night what had been a boxy office space became a glorious testament to God. Plus there was plenty of left over space for all aspects of the ministry's needs.

If you thought about it long enough, it was a marvel unto its self.

John moved down the aisle among the rows and rows of wooden pews. In the middle of the great space was the platform and pulpit. In the middle stood several men, a few half-breeds, all listening intently to the man at the center. A tall man with a double set of wings.

Andrew.

Most people thought of Cherubim as pudgy little naked babies with tiny perfect little wings and maybe a harp or a flute to make music with. Those were just inventions by the Renaissance painters. Real Cherubim were nothing like that. They were men, usually over six foot tall, with perfect features. To the human eye they were pleasant, attractive, and even strikingly beautiful to some. They were perpetually smiling, always helpful, and always reminding one how good God was to His children.

To John's eyes though...

If one were able to see Cherubim, they would notice the wings right after the height. Their wings were a lot like a dragonfly's, the topmost set over lapping the bottom set. Andrew's wings were folded, at rest. Hugging his body as he spoke calmly, passionately to his friends and brothers-in-Christ.

People had forgotten how long ago, kneeling Cherubim had been carved on the lid of the Ark of the Covenant and their image had been sewn onto the veils that covered the Holy of Holies in the Tabernacle. They were the beasts that guarded the doors to temples in Babylon. The second highest choir of angels, just below the Seraphim, they were said to be intimate with God and knew His thoughts.

Which creeped John Constantine out even more. He was 100 feet from someone who had looked upon the face of God.

"Excuse me." John looked to his right, shaken from his thoughts. A young woman stood at the end of the aisle, a stack of bulletins in her arms. She looked up at John, about half a foot shorter in height.

Constantine stepped back and out of her way. She moved past him into the opposite row, placing a bulletin on each seat. John stared after her. She had a nice ass. His eyes moved up, over her conservative cream-colored outfit up to her hair. Her orange hair, pulled up in a sleek French twist.

"Wait!" John shuffled down the row sideways trying to catch up to her. She moved fast and was down the other aisle by the time he caught up. "Wait! You!"

The girl turned and met his gaze. Her eyes were blue, not pitch black. He could see the whites around the floating crystal blue irises. She was looking at him with a slightly annoyed expression. "If you have a question about our services or ministries, I would kindly suggest you ask in the lobby at our information..."

"It's _you_." John stopped, looking down, feeling as though he towered over her. The girl stopped long enough to really look at him. He saw the recognition spark in her eyes.

"Oh no."

"What?" John blinked. The girl shook her head and quickly resumed her job, hastily slapping bulletins on the seats. "What is it?" She wouldn't answer, only kept moving along the rows of pews. John finally stopped following and waited at the side door, watching until she finished. She tried to move past him and exit but he grabbed her arm.

A huge psychic flash lit up his inner vision, causing them both to shudder. John locked down, looking towards the center of the sanctuary. If Andrew or any of the other half-breeds had felt it, they weren't acknowledging it. John took a tighter hold of her arm and pulled her through the door with him.


	5. V

John found himself smaller side room, empty except him and the orange-haired girl.

"You're a virgin." Constantine stated.

"Really? I didn't know that. Thanks for confirmation." The girl snarled under her breath, straightening her sleeves.

"Not like I was using that as a pick up line!" John countered back, taking a step away to give her room. "I've just never met one."

"Yeah we're about as mythical as a unicorn here in Los Angeles." The girl looked up into his eyes, her own flashing with warning. "Now look, why are you here? It was bad enough you probed my mind, bad enough you've come here to tell them you saw me at Papa Midnite's..."

"Tell _them_?" Constantine was confused, still recovering from the bright mental flash.

"Tell the church you saw one of their employees exiting a club well-known for its sinful reputation. It's a clause in the employment contract that you're not to dwell in forsaken places." The girl sighed. "I so totally need this job but I went and let Emily talk me into going in there..."

"Stop. Back up." John held up both hands, waving them slightly. "I didn't come here for you. I didn't even know you worked here!"

She blinked, her gaze returning to him. "Oh. Shit...uh...oh. Okay. Then this conversation never happened." She turned on her heel and grabbed the handle of the door. John braced himself and took hold her arm, pulling her back. No blast of light blinded his mind's eye this time.

"It won't happen again. I put my shields back up." She murmured.

"You know you're a telepath?" Constantine replied quietly. She nodded.

"Born that way. Got worse when I hit my teens. I learned early on I wasn't _normal_. I've been medicated for other reasons, mostly depression. Hospitalized for suicidal tendencies. But no one's ever known what I was." She stopped talking. "Here I am pouring my soul out to a stranger, who is taking what I'm saying seriously."

"It's all right, really. I understand. Personally." He gave her a wry smile. "I'm John..."

"Constantine. Infamous exorcist and all around shady character. I've seen your picture in the paper, read about you on the Internet." She took another step back from him. "I saw things when your mind touched mine. _Dark_ things."

Constantine smirked. "Be glad you don't even know a third of it." He slid his hands into his trench coat pockets, a gesture of goodwill. "Since I'm on the downside of the conversation, you are?"

"Elizabeth Alder. Sorry." She started to offer a hand out of habit but withdrew it. "Why are you here, Mr. Constantine?"

"A job." Best to say something non-committal; less she knew, the better.

"Well then, I will let you get back to whatever that is."

"First, tell me something. Why was someone who works for this particular church hanging around Papa Midnite's?" He saw Elizabeth cringe.

She paused a minute before answering. "Emily and Chris... they'd heard there's a backroom. Where strange things go down. And only certain persons can get in. That it involves a card trick. They dared me to go down, see if I could get in."

"You said no one knows what you are."

"No one knows I can read their minds. I've got other... powers." Her gaze dropped to the floor, as though she were confessing a sin. There was a beat before her gaze turned back to John's, her defiance showing. "I went in and found the bouncer at the end of the stairs holding a card at me. So I read his mind and repeated what he saw on the card. I guess that's the key. He opened the velvet rope and I realized I was being allowed into whatever lay beyond that door and I freaked. I may have screamed. Chris and Emily grabbed me, hurried me on out of there." Elizabeth rubbed a hand over her face. "I cried all night at some of the things I heard going on beyond that door. I couldn't hold my shields up and read his mind at the same time."

Constantine stepped towards her, pausing before offering a Chicklet from the blister pack. Comforting wasn't his forte and he didn't want to touch her again without her permission. Elizabeth eyed the offering and shook her head.

"You said other powers."

"I get premonitions. I can predict things! I can see events before they happen, sometimes right before they do just in front of me! If I don't keep my shields up I hear everyone's thoughts, all day and night, crushing in on me!" She buried her face in her hands, close to tears.

John sighed softly. He knew her pain, in his own way. Having seen things no human should see. "It's ok. I'm not here because of you. I didn't even know you worked here. Honestly."

Elizabeth looked up, brushing the tears from her eyes with her fingers. "I need to get back. They'll be wondering where I am."

"Before you go, tell me something, please? You say if you don't have your shields up, you hear everyone." The girl nodded. "Tell me, do you hear Andrew's thoughts?"

Blinking, Elizabeth looked up at John. "No. Not clearly and I'm never that close to him. Besides, it would be wrong, rude of me."

This could be a lead, a clue into the mind of the Cherubim. John leaned closer into Elizabeth's space. "I wouldn't ask you but it's important. I don't want to tell you more then I have to because really, ignorance is bliss. I really have no right to even ask this of you, but would you try?"

"Try what?"

"To hear Andrew's thoughts."

"What?! No! That's out of line!" Elizabeth jumped up from the chair, out of John's reach. "I've got to go. Please. Don't come back here, don't try to contact me again." She gave him one final look, a warning look, and slid out the door.

"Damn." John swore, as his only break in the case disappeared.


	6. VI

When John finally stepped back into the sanctuary it was empty. Andrew was gone. It was fine. John really didn't want to confront the Cherubim before he had to. It was obvious word of his presence was spreading, from the looks he got in the lobby as he passed through. Great, so much for subtlety.

Constantine went home.

He unlocked the door to his apartment, stepped through and slammed it shut, locking all the locks both visible and invisible. He removed the small black book from his inner coat pocket, hung his coat on its proper hook. Set the book on its small shelf. Stepped to the hidden chain and pulled it, opening all the shutters and letting the city's lights in.

John didn't want to use the girl for his mission. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. Using people was something he was very good at, almost talented at, but this girl was an innocent. An especially pure innocent, one you didn't come across often in his line of work. A shiver sped down his spine as he remembered the flash of pure light that seared his mind.

Lots of virgins had been witness to visions, manifestations from God. Purity of mind and body made their connections clearer, truer. God had chosen a virgin birth for His son, hadn't He?

"A fucking _virgin_. That's a new one for my list." John pulled a glass from the open cupboard and grabbed for the whiskey with his other hand. It explained why her mental imprint had stayed with him. It was like a drug in its purest form. You never achieved the same high as your first hit ever again but you always tried.

He sat in the chair, a finger of whiskey in the glass, half a pack of Chicklets on the table. Alone. Again. Naturally.

"How was your day, John?" he asked aloud. "Fine, thanks for asking, John." He sneered in reply, the glass to his lips. A knock came at the door. He finished his drink but instead of getting up, cast out his psychic vision.

Elizabeth was at the door.

John nearly knocked over the chair getting up and rushing to the door. He didn't want to scare her off but she was playing right into his hand and that made her more easy to use for his case. He paused for a moment, letting her start to get the wrong idea, before opening the door.

"What." He eyed her through the barely cracked door, the chain still in place.

"May I come in? Please."

"Why? You must really hate your job if you keep hanging around _forsaken_ places."

"I listened to his thoughts." Her eyes were wild, her manner nervous. John slid the chain free and opened the door. The wards carved into the jam whispered over her as she stepped inside. He motioned her towards the table, locking the door.

"What did you hear?" Elizabeth sat in the chair he'd previously occupied. She shook her head, in a bit of disbelief. She'd been spooked enough to seek him out. Was that good or bad? John poured a bit more whiskey into his glass and offered it. She swallowed it all in one large gulp, shuddering as she set the empty glass back on the table. "What did you hear, Elizabeth?"

" _Nothing._ "

John just looked at her.

"There was nothing there. His mind was blank! I've never felt a blank mind before!" She wrapped her arms around herself, rocking a bit like she was chilled to the core. "Silence, emptiness, nothingness. There was no sights, no sounds, not even the buzz of life. I've never..."

"What happened?" John pulled the other chair over and sat across from her. She continued to rock a bit, rubbing her arms, not looking at him as she spoke.

"I thought about what you asked. I've never listened to someone's mind on purpose... okay, not true, but never because I was asked to. I've read enough to know about you, that you never show up to somewhere without a big reason behind it. I've got this gift; maybe it was time to use it. So I went down by his office. No one's allowed in his office. _No one_. Sometimes, if I try hard enough, I can focus on someone in the next room. So I stood outside the door..." she flinched hard, remembering.

"Tell me, Elizabeth." Constantine directed her firmly.

"I stood outside his door and dropped my shield, focusing on him. And there was nothing! Emptiness. Blinding white emptiness! It was engulfing me, almost like it sensed me. It felt _alive_!" She screamed, a high-pitched wail.

John dove around the table and clamped his palm over her mouth, wrapping his other arm around her, trying to stifle the noise. Her screamed continued for a few more painful seconds. John's fingers finished drawing the rune, catching her as her body slumped in the chair, unconscious.


	7. VII

Constantine peered around the quarter wall at his bed. Elizabeth had been unconscious, deep in sleep, for a little over four hours. The spell he'd cast had worn off an hour before but still she slept on. He'd done a few gentle probes, nothing deep and certainly nothing to wake her, to test for damage.

He couldn't ever remember anything he'd seen or read about someone getting into an angel's mind. A demon was easier; they were corrupted from the soul out, more on par with a human. An angel was pure, divine. It would take someone pure enough on a human level to be able to get into that space.

A virgin had pulled it off.

But what was God trying to tell him? Rubbing his eyes, needing sleep, Constantine decided he'd better see if anything else jumped out at him. He'd gone downstairs, into the space behind the bowling lanes, into Beeman's old apartment. Pulled some scrolls and texts, seeking anything he could find on virgins. It was stuff he mostly already knew by proxy, stuff he'd picked up as he'd researched other cases. Nothing new. Certainly nothing that flashed like a slot machine when you hit a jackpot. He'd replaced everything to its proper place, trudged back upstairs, and found her still sleeping on his bed.

She looked good on his bed. _Very_ good indeed.

John walked around, clicking the switch on the lamp. He'd pulled the wooden shutters before he'd gone downstairs, leaving her to sleep in the gathered darkness and safety of his apartment. It was nearly 4am now. If she had family, they might be wondering where she was.

He touched her shoulder and was hit with the psychic purity again.

"Ow! Fuck!" John snapped his hand back like he'd been burned. Elizabeth woke with a start. "Jesus, you're so pure! God damn that smarts." Constantine sucked on his fingers like he would a burn.

"I'm sorry?" she offered softly.

"I wonder if you'd burn a demon if they touched you." He joked but she only looked at him blankly. "Feeling better?"

"How long was I asleep?"

"About four hours. I thought I'd wake you, in case someone might be looking for you."

"I live alone."

"Parents?"

"Estranged." She pushed down the blanket John had thrown over her. "Haven't spoken since I moved away at seventeen."

"You connected to Andrew's mind because you're a virgin." Might as well hit her with the facts off the bat. Not give her time to think on what had happened.

"What?"

"Andrew is a angel, one of what's called the Cherubim. He's down here saving the Earth, bringing home the sheep to God's arms. It's one of their jobs."

"Do you always make so little sense when you talk, Mr. Constantine?" Elizabeth looked at him, one fine eyebrow arched. Her eyes burned with a crystal quality in the low light, peering into him.

"You work at the church. Must mean you believe in something."

"Just because I work there... it's a job. It pays. And sure, Andrew's an angel. Right. What did you say, a _cherubim_? A fat baby with wings? Ok. You're just drunk, right?" she rose, searching out her shoes.

"Elizabeth. Do you believe in God?"

She stopped mid-search, slowly sitting back on the mattress. "My parents were very religious, very strict. They never would have accepted their child could be flawed, given powers like some kind of witch. It was bad enough getting them to let me have medication for depression. It got worse when I tried to use that medication to kill myself. It was a lot like the mother in that Stephen King movie. Carrie's mom. Staying there was slowly killing me. So I left. Moved here."

"Why not Sin City?" John attempted another wisecrack, deadpan expression.

"The City of Angels just sounded better and I wasn't legal to gamble or even drink when I left home. Why does this all matter to you?"

"Nothing really happens to me without a reason. Or that's what hindsight always tells me. Maybe God's tipped His hand this time early for me. But you didn't answer my question."

"I wouldn't have this gift... or whatever it is, unless God gave it to me." Elizabeth rose, her shoes in hand.

"Maybe. Maybe you're just crazy."

"I did what you wanted. I looked into Andrew's mind and I told you what was... wasn't there." Her shoulders sagged; Elizabeth seemed to age a bit before his eyes.

"Where do you live?" John stepped around to the dresser, began to dig some things out.

"Why? It's not like it matters if I'm seen here or not. I quit my job."

Constantine stopped rummaging. "What?"

"My job, the one at the church, I quit it."

"You didn't tell me that."

"When... when the white emptiness started to touch me, I panicked and threw the shields back up. But by the time I'd regained focus, the door to his office was open and Andrew was standing there staring at me. His eyes were blazing. So I sort of screamed my immediate resignation and ran out before anyone could stop me. I got in a cab and didn't look back."

John nodded, digging again in the drawer. "And you knew where I lived." He cast a glance over his shoulder and found Elizabeth blushing.

"Um. Not really. I... had a premonition. It told me where you were." John nodded, putting a few things in his pockets. "What are you doing?"

"If you're going home, I'm going with you."

"Uh, what the hell do you mean?"

"You know too much now. Andrew probably knows what you are. He wouldn't harm you; it's not an angel's prerogative or anything unless God tells them to. But at this point I can hazard a guess that you have some purpose."

"I don't understand. Do you ever make sense?"

"You need a guard. I can set up wards at your residence."

"And if I don't want you to?"

"You stay here. Where I can keep an eye on you." _So you make it through the night,_ He thought to himself then realized he was dealing with a telepath. Made a mental note not to think anything around her unless he was really shielding.

"Fine, but you'll have to pair the cab fare."


	8. VIII

It was an expensive cab fare, even in the middle of the night. Elizabeth lived outside the heart of the city, far beyond what could even be loosely termed a suburb.

"See, I usually take mass transit." She smirked as John forked over the cash. She stepped to the glass doors and produced a key, letting herself into the building. Constantine followed. He'd kept an extra eye on everything as they'd rode over, making sure nothing was following him or waiting for them. They rode up to the fourth floor in the elevator, the bell dinging as the doors slid open and revealed the hallway.

"I'm the second door on the left." She said, as John put his arm out to keep her from exiting. "What?"

"Just stay behind me." He stated, stepping out and casting out for anything that might be lurking. There was a sleeping demon on the first floor, what he figured to be the building super, but that was it. "All right, go ahead."

"Are you always this weird?" Elizabeth picked the key on the ring and stepped out, heading down to her door. Constantine followed.

"You should see me on a date." Elizabeth rolled her eyes, unlocking her apartment door. A modest one bedroom flat. Kitchen off to the right of entry, a small dining room living room combo. Tiny balcony. Single, small bathroom, with the bedroom to the left of the living room. Noticeably under furnished save a few framed photos and a poster.

"I had to save to get in here. Wouldn't have been able to afford it any other way. You can't imagine how many ways one can be thrifty." She set her keys on a shelf. "What are you doing?"

"Warding the door." John drew his fingers along the hardwood of the door jam, tracing spells into the wood with his fingers. He could feel her looking him over from behind. She was checking him out. He smirked and turned just as her gaze moved to the small of his back. "Yes?"

She flushed bright red and turned away. "Um, anything else or are you leaving now?"

"Your bedroom."

"Excuse me?"

"I need to set a ward in your bedroom."

"Oh. Um, on the left." She pointed, unable to look at him anymore, her face still pink. Constantine nodded, not pushing or giving any more reason to embarrass her, heading towards the bedroom. Were all virgins jumpy when you brought up bedrooms? He opened the door and went in.

It was modest to say the least. Threadbare sheets, blankets and pillows. Bed sheets for curtains. A beat up dresser missing a drawer. He shook his head and got to work, casting a protection spell on the whole apartment. Better to do it in here then with her watching.

He had just finished when he felt a hand on his shoulder blade, the fingers spreading against his coat. "What, Elizabeth?" John turned and his face was grabbed up in her hands, her palms hot on his skin. Suddenly her mouth was crushed to his, causing a strangled moan to escape him.

With his shields lowered to do the spell casting, he saw it was more then just a kiss.

It was a blast of purity. It was burning through his body, settling in every cell, lighting him up like a string of Christmas lights. He managed to break off enough and regain his sight to realize...

" _No!_ " he barked roughly, pushing Elizabeth off and down onto the bed. She struggled against his hand. "Elizabeth, no!"

"What?" she cried, suddenly coming back to her senses, realizing what she'd done. Quickly Constantine cast around the room psychically and found what he was looking for. It was invisible. He looked over and found the window cracked open: an entry point.

"Damn it!" he growled, ripping his trench coat off and tossing it on the bed beside her, quickly undoing his cuffs and rolling his shirtsleeves up. Elizabeth stared at him, scared enough to do as he said, but dropping her own shields to see if she could figure out what John saw. She screamed.

Constantine slammed his arms together, the sigil tattoos forming the whole image as he roared the command. "Into the light I command thee!"

The air against the wall near the window shimmered at first then roiled as the being came into focus.

"Into the Light I command thee!" John roared again and the being took its true shape. The demon appeared, the one John had pegged as the building's super. It blinked at them both, hissing. John looked towards the girl to see if she saw what he was seeing. She didn't. All she saw was her building super writhing in the corner of her room, clinging to the ceiling.

"Constantine..." It hissed at John before turning its talons in the direction of the window, blasting it free and jumping out into the night. Elizabeth rushed to the hole in the wall and stared down at the sidewalk, the crumpled body. John ripped a Chicklet from the packaging. He didn't need to look.

"Pack your things. You're coming home with me."


	9. IX

"Put you hands _up_!" The police officer, gun drawn and pointed at Constantine, barked his order. John sighed. Someone had obviously noticed the building's super lying dead on the blacktop, a fourth floor window blown out. In the old days someone would have noticed and probably ignored it. But now everything, in this time of religious fervor, was noticed and reported.

"You're making a mistake, officer." John calmly raised his hands. He'd been through this routine dozens of times, knew it by heart. "Seriously, I had nothing to do with that asshole jumping to his death."

The officer said nothing, just manhandled Constantine against the hallway wall and cuffed him. John squinted through his right eye as his face was shoved against the cracking plaster.

"Why am I not surprised to see you again, John Constantine." He knew that voice. Detective Xavier stepped into the hall, right behind Constantine. "Another jumper."

"I didn't push him." Constantine managed to answer, although he wished he had. He saw them hauling Elizabeth out, cuffed as well, and down the stairs. "Leave the girl alone. Not her fault she had a crazy for a super."

Xavier eyed him for a minute then dismissed the arresting officer, leaving himself alone with Constantine. "Care to tell me what's going on?" He looked at John then realized Constantine was flipping him off literally behind his back. "Didn't your mother teach you manners, John?"

"You have nothing to hold me on."

"Witness to a suicide. That's something."

John swore under his breath. "Look, I don't know exactly what's going on or why that happened. And if I did, I probably wouldn't fucking tell you. But if you don't let me go, I won't find out and then there will be another homicide for you to investigate."

"Someone's after the girl?"

"I said I wasn't going to tell you either way."

Xavier shook his head and sighed. "You're just lucky Dodson is on vacation. She would have been here, not me. Are you sure you won't tell me anything?" The silence grew in the air.

"Let me go and I'll tell you everything..." John let his words hang, baiting the detective. He took it and un-cuffed John. "A thousand years from now." He shot the detective a smart-ass grin and made his way downstairs.

"Someday, John Constantine. Someday." Xavier sighed and went back to his investigation.

Elizabeth was sitting in the backseat of a cruiser, the door open, when John found her. "We need to get going."

"What was he, John? I didn't get emptiness. I got screaming... and what sounded like buzzing..."

"A demon. Come on. We need to go." He grabbed her wrist, then paused to brace him self, but nothing hit him. She had her shields up. "Apparently your worth just sky rocketed or Hell has some reason to take you out."

"Will you just wait a minute and explain what you're talking about?" Elizabeth shouted, her voice raised enough to draw a bit of attention. Constantine closed his eyes and thought.

"I am hungry, and tired, and really want to go home. I really wish I hadn't woken up yesterday morning. Because then I wouldn't be standing in bum fuck nowhere, surrounded by a dozen cop cars, a dead demon on the street, and I wouldn't have to worry about what the hell happens to you." His voice was low, enough so only she could hear it. His expression also spoke volumes. John felt the girl touch her mind to his, seeking confirmation of his words.

_I'm not fucking kidding, Elizabeth._ John thought the words at her.

_I'm sorry._ She thought back as he felt the link close. Elizabeth turned away, eyes closed. John watched her, brow furrowed. Her hand rose and she seemed to reach out a bit into the empty space.

"What are you doing?" John asked, as a cab rolled up on the opposite side of the street. Elizabeth started off towards it, not giving him an answer. "Damn. That's a trick I need to learn." Constantine hustled after her.


	10. X

The sun was rising, peeking over the hills. Constantine had been awake twenty-four very long hours and all he had to show for it was a virgin. A virgin, barefoot, in the kitchen.

"I thought the adage was 'barefoot and _pregnant_ in the kitchen'." He murmured to himself, sipping the whiskey he'd insisted on drinking even though she'd tried to pour him orange juice.

"I could do better if you actually had something to make food with, but I'm hazarding a guess that you eat out a lot. Most bachelors do." She was making toast, the old fashioned way, over the gas burners. "Even I have a toaster."

"Be glad I even had bread." John felt the last of the whiskey burn down as it descended into his empty stomach.

"You really do see demons." It was more of a statement. Elizabeth had obviously done her homework but now she had proof.

"And angels. And other shit I didn't ever ask to see."

"Do you know why the demon was in my apartment?"

"No." John looked around for where she'd hidden the whiskey bottle. "And I don't really want to go into Hell and ask. And before you ask, yes I've been there. And I really don't like it. You shouldn't ever like or get used to Hell." She'd hidden the bottle too well or he was too tired to keep searching.

Elizabeth spread the butter on the toast, scraping softly with the knife. "What side do you think wants me?"

"I don't know what Hell would want with a virgin. They're not really into the whole purity bit. That's why I'm sure it pushed you."

"Pushed me?" she set the small plate of toast on the table in front of him.

"Long story made short. There's a bet between God and Satan and we're all the pawns. They can influence us, but never directly interfere. We make the choice in the end. But, sadly, I really don't think you kissed me of your own accord." He picked up a piece and bit in. It was actually good. He looked back up at her and found her blushing. "Oh Christ, you mean you've never even kissed someone?" Her blush deepened as she fumbled her way into the other chair.

"We had a farm, pretty much isolated all day long. Mama even home schooled me; they didn't like what I could learn in a public school. I didn't see many boys, let alone anyone my age, for weeks at a time. And even then never on a social level."

"Were you Amish or something?"

"Radical Christians is more a fitting term. Much like one of those militia weirdos with the bunkers built into their basements. Papa was very upset when God didn't come back in eighty-four." John took another bite of toast.

"You seem knowledgeable for being so isolated."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I've been here since I was seventeen. That was eight years ago. There's public access to the Internet at the library downtown. You can learn plenty."

Constantine tried a subject change; the topic of her upbringing seemed painful. "Do you remember anything right before you were kissing me?"

Elizabeth broke off a piece of toast, chewed and swallowed it before answering. "I remember just... not really thinking or feeling it... sort of all at once... I just suddenly wanted to kiss you. And a lot more." She wouldn't look at him.

"Demons are low but why would they whisper influence on you to try and get you laid." He gave in and grabbed the glass of juice she'd poured for herself, draining it in two gulps. "Have you ever had those feelings before?"

"No. I've looked at guys and thought they were cute. A crush or two. Trust me, it took _years_ to undo a lot of the shit my parents ingrained into me. Five years ago I wouldn't have even let myself be alone in a room with you." She reached into the small bag she'd managed to pack and withdrew a pack of cigarettes.

"Those will kill you, you know." John stared at the box. Camels. Not his delicious Lucky Strikes, but still... exceptions could be made. "I know first hand."

Elizabeth looked at him as she lit one. "Someone you know died from cancer?"

"I nearly died from lung cancer."

"You're in remission?" She exhaled slowly. It looked sexy, in a way that pained him.

"More a punch line to a cruel joke played by Satan. I might explain sometime." Constantine rose, eyes flicking closed as the smoke hit him. "We need to sleep. I'll take the right side."

"Isn't that a little sudden? Us sharing a bed?"

"We've already kissed. You want more?" Again, she blushed. "I'll keep my clothes on... as long as you keep yours on." He kicked his shoes off and padded towards the bed. Elizabeth turned the stove off, slowly following.

"Why all the water jugs?"

"Home security measure."

"Water?"

" _Holy_ water." John sat on the bed, hands on his knees. "Please, save all your questions for the end of the tour." He undid his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up, undid his tie a bit more. Elizabeth sat on the left side, combing her hair with her fingers. Constantine looked over his shoulder at her. Her hair hit about mid shoulder blades, and it wasn't a dye job. She was a natural redhead, more the color of carrots than auburn. He wondered just how natural... then slapped the thought out off his mind.

His head hit the pillow and he stared at the dresser, feeling the mattress move as she crawled under the blanket behind him. "I've never shared a bed with someone."

"Don't worry, I'm told I don't kick." Constantine smirked dryly. "I only bite when asked." He knew she was blushing, could practically feel the heat roll off her. "Do you normally blush so much?"

"No."

"Great, it's me, isn't it." His eyes slid close and he fell into dreamless sleep.


	11. XI

His psychic awareness woke him first with a loud alarm sounding in his head. Something was wrong. His eyes opened second, and John snapped into consciousness, instantly ready.

Crying. Her _crying_ had woken him up. _God, you're getting soft, John._ He berated himself then cast around mentally to see if she knew he was awake. Nope. Flicked his gaze towards the windows. Must be past noon. Her crying wasn't loud, mostly muffled by the pillow, so it wasn't what had awakened him.

Her pain did. A familiar ache, the kind you get when you know you're different and although not your fault, you wish it wasn't so.

Constantine silently rolled over, spooning in behind her, sliding an arm over her side to settle around her. He was getting slightly better at this comforting bit, could probably use the practice. He said nothing, nor did she, but Elizabeth's sobs subsided a bit, changing into the painful winces when you know someone's watching you cry but you can't stop.

"Let it out," he gently commanded. There was nothing worse then a woman crying... well, _Hell_ was worse, but this was just underneath on the scale. He felt her body wrack with another deep sob, outwardly silent but physically loud.

Then he felt her hand on his left arm, just at the inside of his elbow. Sliding down the underneath of his forearm, turning his arm over, and stopping at the raised scars, the jagged skin. She traced it almost reverently, the physical contact almost electric.

"I didn't have the guts. So I saved up the medication, pill by pill, till I had about a hundred. I thought it would be enough. Picked a date and did it. I started to fall asleep but I woke up and it felt like a hand was squeezing my stomach, forcing everything back out. I was so violently ill mama insisted they take me to the hospital. I don't think my parents ever really fully understood what I'd done." Her confession seemed to lift a weight off her. John was silent for a long moment.

"I was 15 and I succeeded." He kept his gaze on her hand, watching her trace the physical reminders of his suicide. "I got sent back, though. I'm not sure anymore that I'm still damned to Hell or if Heaven's taken me back. Either way I'm walking a fine line. I've seen what waits after death."

"Do you think I'll go to Hell, for even attempting?"

"I don't think so. Something, maybe God Himself, didn't want you to." The scent of her, sandalwood and roses, was hitting him and strands of her hair tickled his face. She was warm, beginning to trust him, and already in his arms. He could push her; just enough and she'd probably bend.

_No, not me._ He was filthy compared to her, in that sense. He hadn't had the patience to wait, had actively sought out sex as soon as possible. Constantine just had to keep shoving the thoughts out of his head. It wasn't going to happen and he had to make sure it didn't.

Elizabeth sat up slow, John's hand sliding to rest on her thigh. She didn't push it away. "I need to take a shower."

"Sorry, my bathtub is broken."

"Pipes?"

"No, literally. In pieces."

"You must have some wild parties."

"I wish." John smirked. She rose and his hand fell away. He lay there long after she'd gone into the bathroom and locked the door behind her self.

A muffled cry followed by a crash brought him back to reality. "Elizabeth?" Rising quickly, he headed towards the bathroom. "Elizabeth!" he called again. Throwing out a feeler, he detected only her in the bathroom. Why wasn't she answering?

With a roar he kicked in the door. "If I just busted my bathroom door for nothing... what the fuck!"

Elizabeth was standing at the sink, staring at the mirror, what was left of it. Hundreds of shards twinkled on the floor, floated in the water of the sink. She was shaking hard. John rushed over to her, physically and mentally checking her over. There was nothing, no cuts or wounds.

"What happened Elizabeth?" he cupped her face in his hands making her look at him. Her eyes were as wild as when she'd first come to his apartment.

"Zoroaster." she managed to say. Constantine frowned and thought hard. She'd had a premonition, obviously. But what did she mean by Zoroaster?

"What did you see?" he looked into her eyes but they were vacant, her sight turned inwards.

"Virgin birth... the universe united and made whole once more... united for God... under a son..."

"Yes, I know plenty about Jesus Christ... but Zoroaster? That was a prediction, more of a mythological one...unless you mean..." Something clicked and a light went on in John's head. "Oh Christ, you mean..." He snagged a towel from the rack, wrapped it around her. "We need to go downstairs, hold on." Slinging Elizabeth in his arms, John carried her over the jagged shards and all the way down into Beeman's apartment.


	12. XII

"Six chiefs of the Cherubim: Ophaniel, Rikbiel, Zophiel, Cherubiel, Raphael, Gabriel, and Lucifer." John rubbed his forehead, trying to dispel the growing tension headache forming there. What was in the water in heaven? "I already dealt with Gabriel and I don't care where he is. I've talked with Satan and I don't really care to have a second conversation. Now there's Andrew. I guess I'll finally complete my collection of psychos."

He looked over the books spread before him, what scrolls he had found that held any mention of Zoroaster and his predictions. If the Islamic tradition was true, there were over seven hundred _quadrillion_ cherubim and that was an army not even John Constantine wanted to pick a fight with.

He'd never seen a Seraph; they were the highest choir of angels and apparently remained sane even after talking directly to God. The Cherubim on the other hand were going crazy in record amounts. Maybe they were tired of being second in line or carrying out the will of God. Maybe they were just tired of singing ceaseless praises of glory. Who knew? But there was a rash of them that weren't right in the head and the first one had been Lucifer.

Constantine looked over at Elizabeth. She was curled on the folding chair, arms around her knees. She hadn't made a peep in an hour. He reached out and took her hand, finding she was cold as ice.

"You still with me?" he asked, trying to bring her back. Elizabeth's gaze slowly refocused, the blue of her eyes so very clear.

"He wants to beget a son, onto a virgin, to right the world once more."

"Jesus was born of a virgin already and died on the cross while he was at it. The world is saved, if that's what you believe."

"Andrew wants his own son. He wants to be God."

"God complex." John realized he was still holding her hand but not being blasted. Surely she couldn't be holding her shields up after all she'd been through. "That means the scales are tipped. God's no longer got their backs." He turned the information over in his head a moment. "How did you get that job at the church?"

Elizabeth looked around for a moment, obviously trying to remember. "It came to me, in a premonition. I was desperate for work. I tried everything but nothing panned out. I'd fallen asleep at the table, and I saw myself looking down at the paper under me and there was the ad. When I woke up, it was just like the vision. I called and they hired me over the phone, which I thought was a little odd..."

"Influenced." Constantine shook his head. They'd known what she was long before she'd ever set foot in the building. "They directed you. Brought you to them." He swore quietly. Then another clue hit him. "The demon in your apartment."

"What about it?"

"Proof Hell knows. Then know Andrew needs a virgin. The demon was trying to influence you, break that purity. Satan must be pretty unhappy that an angel is trying to take over. His son just tried to take Earth for himself and now another Cherubim is trying to have his cake and eat it too. That must so be pissing the old man off!"

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. "The demon tried to make me sleep with you so I'd no longer be a virgin?"

"Yeah. Remove one of the pieces and you can't finish the puzzle. You yourself said virgins in L.A. were as mythical as unicorns, and a born-again virgin isn't enough for Andrew's plan." John slid back to the books. "When virginity is taken, even God Himself cannot remake it. It's not a virtue either, so it cannot be regained through penance."

He realized she was still holding his hand. It was cool in his grasp, having taken on some of his warmth from skin contact. He looked back over at her and found her looking at him.

"Oh no. _Not me_." He shook his head. "I'm a one way ticket to Hell, sweetheart. Besides, this would classify as fornication and sex is supposed to be reserved for the marriage bed. A sin for sure, not sure if it's a damning one, but still a sin." _  
_

_One I've already committed myself many times over. He would have to make it feel so good then be all 'No! Bad!' Another cosmic practical joke played by God!_

"Then who? If I stay a virgin I'm still in play." Elizabeth withdrew her hand from John's slowly. "What other way is there?"

"Marriage." He heard himself say aloud. His mouth seemed to move of its own free will. "We have to get married." _Oh hell no, I did not just say that!_

"That's real romantic of you, John." Elizabeth frowned. "I know you're probably not a traditional guy or anything, but a proposal would have been nice."

First Satan's nasty punch line, removing the cancer that choked his lungs literally by hand, now God was laughing His ass off by forcing John Constantine to get married. Deities were real pranksters. He so would have given them both the finger again but what was the use.

"We only have to be married in the eyes of God, then nothing is broken. It'll all be right in the big book." He looked at her, as serious as he could be. "I wouldn't even bring it up if it wasn't the only chance we've got. If there was a way to just unmake you a virgin without spiritual consequences, I would."

"I wish this was one of those times you were being sarcastic." She sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "All right. John Constantine, would you do me the honor and marry me?"

John smirked. "You didn't get on one knee. Some traditionalist you are."


	13. XIII

They were on the street in front of the bowling alley, a cab waiting. John looked around slowly, casting about to make sure nothing was watching. Elizabeth was opening the door of the cab to get in.

"Hold up." John took hold of the car door. She looked up at him questioningly. "Here." He slipped a chain over her head, the same amulet Father Hennessy had worn not so long ago to hold the voices at bay. "Don't take it off."

"Another security system?" she looked down at it, where it rested in the center of her chest.

"Insurance policy." He caught her cheek in his palm and leaned in, kissing her. She responded warmly, if a bit unsure. He broke it off slowly, hearing her catch her breath again. "Might as well start acting like we are." He watched her. She didn't blush this time.

"I'll be quick." Her tongue slid quickly over her bottom lip, licking the taste of him off.

"Find one, nothing fancy, and go directly to this address." He gave her the street number. She nodded. "I'll be waiting downstairs. You know how to get inside."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "I'll be there soon." She slid in the cab and Constantine shut the door after her. He made sure the car was around the corner before he hailed his own and got in.

"The El Carmen, and step on it."

There was still traffic; that part of Los Angeles would probably never go away. At least it wasn't the traffic in Hell's version of Los Angeles, which never moved and was mostly made of fiery auto wreckage. The driver made the best time he could.

John dug into his inner pocket for a Chicklet but instead pulled out the small envelope. He felt it, outlined the shape of the object inside. He'd really never known why he'd hung onto it; marriage had never crossed his mind and wasn't something he felt suited for. Still didn't feel that way. This was a marriage of convenience, wasn't it?. Much like marrying someone so they could stay in the country after a Green Card expired.

He undid the flap and tipped the envelope, spilling the ring out into his palm. It was a plain gold band, not very wide, nothing about it to catch your eye. Its significance was invisible. Consecrated and blessed by the Pope, it had holy protection placed upon it. Constantine really couldn't remember how he'd come into possession of it but it had stayed stashed in a drawer all these years.

Now it had a purpose. It would give Elizabeth protection. He looked out the window, a billboard of a couple towering in front of the cab. It seemed to be an advertisement for a jewelry store. The guy was sliding one hell of a rock onto the woman's finger. The copy text seemed to be something like " _Show her how much you love her all over again._ " The cab drove past before John could get a better look.

He began to doubt the plan. Would a marriage work for his plan? Sure, you could have a license, be perfectly legal on paper, but was it a real marriage? Didn't marriage require you love the other person, and they love you, with all your mind, heart and soul?

John started thinking back over his love life, as pitiful as it was in places. There had been plenty of times he'd been in lust and satisfied that lust with someone. There'd been a few demon half-breeds, which he knew would be more then happy to keep him spiraling towards the downside. He'd thought maybe he felt something different for Angela, a deeper connection as they'd stopped the Earth from becoming Mammon's playground. But the guilt of sending her to Hell, helping her see what he saw, that was still there. That was a bond between them that would never break. It had been her choice but he'd helped her carry it through.

There had been an attraction and not just on his part. She'd made attempts, inviting him to lunch or just calling and trying to talk. Days passed, turned into weeks, now months. Angela had given up on him, not that he could blame her. John had sunk into self-despair, shutting out the last person who'd understand, might help him through his survivor's guilt. He'd lost all his closest friends, if you could call them close. Why would he want to make more, let alone take a lover and then lose her? Just because of who he was, what he did, what he faced daily.

Honestly, he was a man who had never really loved another person properly. Sure, he'd cared about all the friends he'd ever had, the ones who counted, but he'd never really understood how much they'd meant to him until they were corpses. Even then it wasn't the same type of love he was thinking about now.

Yet here he was, about to marry a stranger he barely knew, just to save her from a fate she didn't deserve.

_I'm such a swell guy,_ John thought. _Am I doing this for her or because Heaven charged me with this mission and I feel like saving the world again?_

But there was no longer time to think. The cab had stopped outside the El Carmen.


	14. XIV

John hurried down the stairs to the table of the back club's bouncer. "Pig walking a tight rope," he answered, before the bouncer even finished drawing the card. Right as usual, John made his way in. It was a little after five, so the place was barely alive...if you could say that. Midnite would already be alerted to his presence, so when John reached the hidden door, it was already opening.

"I must be daft to keep letting you in here." Midnite was eating his dinner, seated at the booth he'd converted into his enormous desk.

"Congratulate me, Midnite. I'm engaged." John pulled a chair up and sat down across from the former witch doctor. Midnite nearly dropped his fork but recovered gracefully.

"What demon would have you?"

"Not a demon. I've got a bona-fide virgin." Midnite looked up sharply at John.

"You've really gone crazy now. Let me be the first to say it."

John longed for a cigarette but found a stray Chicklet in his pocket and popped it in his mouth. "Another Cherubim has gone off the deep end, not me. Didn't your little brass ball tell you that, Midnite?"

"It makes no difference to me whether you tell me what's going on or not. I don't care and I won't get involved. Remind me to have that printed up on little cards so I can just hand one to you. I'm tired of repeating myself, Constantine." He took a bite of meat; it didn't look like meat John could recognize. He didn't want to know what it had been once.

"The Cherub I mentioned, Andrew, he wants to recreate the whole 'Son of God' story, only with his own half-breed son born of a virgin. And I've got the virgin in my pocket. But condemning her to Hell is not on my agenda; so I've got to marry her, fix the small problem of her virginity, and ta-da! Now, for my next trick..."

"A sham marriage won't fool your God. Only is marriage true when two souls are meant to be, and love one another for all time." Midnite silently placed his utensils on the empty plate.

"You do this to torture me, don't you, Midnite. You like fucking up my plans." Constantine dug his back molars into the gum. "Sadist."

"It'll work fine, if you love her and she loves you. But that still doesn't explain why you came here."

"I was going to ask you to be my best man, since you're my only friend left by default. But really, I need a priest. A minister would do in a pinch. Or a former witch doctor?"

"I wouldn't perform the ceremony even if you asked. I am neutral."

"Come on, Midnite! You can do it! It's very simple really."

Midnite shook his head. "No."

Constantine sighed in frustration. "Look. I can pay you. I've got a lead on two of the silver coins Judas Iscariot was paid with. You only need three more and your set would be complete!"

Midnite just looked at him.

"Fine, fine! I have the Jughead glass! I'll throw that in too! Jesus, you drive a hard bargain."

"I still didn't say yes. Answer me this: once you marry this virgin, what's the rest of the plan?"

Constantine sat up straight; the only other movement was a slight fidgeting of his hands. What was the plan? "Well... after the honeymoon she won't be a virgin, so he can't impregnate her with any potential children Proof goes Andrew's plan."

"Until he finds another virgin he can use to go through with it."

"Okay. Fine. Say he gets lucky and finds the only other virgin in they haystack. I know I have to get in there and kill angels. I'm relatively sure God's no longer backing them, but maybe they don't know it yet. That'll render them powerless...powerless enough, I would think. Okay, I've never really had to kill Cherub before. Why'd you have to bring up that little sticky wicket?"

"That's a show I wish I could sell tickets to. John Constantine versus a whole bunch of very, very pissed off Cherubim. But still, you can't just walk into their territory and expect not to die."

"I thought you said you were neutral."

"I am but you're doing a very shitty job of planning. And the girl doesn't deserve to die just because you are stupid."

"Then what, Einstein?

Midnite rose and slid from behind his desk. He punched a few buttons on the keypad on the wall. A minute later a large Japanese man entered through the hidden door. He held a flat box, like a briefcase. Midnite pointed at the desk. The Japanese man laid it down then left the office.

"I'm helping you because of the girl. And because you will owe me a favor, John. I can _always_ use a boon from you." His white teeth flashed as he smiled brightly. "When will she be here?"

"Soon. Not much longer now I'd say." John rose, looking at the flat black case. "What's in there?"

"Let me know as soon as she's here." Midnite gathered the case in hand and disappeared out the door, leaving John to wait alone.


	15. XV

John Constantine hated waiting. Especially in a room full of interesting objects he wasn't supposed to touch. So he sat. Hands folded in his lap. Thinking.

Eventually his thoughts turned away from pain and misery to the awkward friendship with Angela that never turned into more, never blossomed into romance. He wasn't a romantic guy. Nothing about John Constantine screamed _love_ or _stability_ or _forever_.

Being an exorcist, trafficking in the deportation of demons by giving them a one-way ticket back to Hell, it didn't really leave much room for the normal trappings one expected out of life. A wife, kids, house with a yard surrounded by a white picket fence: these weren't the things John wanted in life.

Sure, Angela had been psychic since birth, a mental gift shared with her twin Isabel, but Angela had denied her gifts and abandoned her sister to a life of therapy, medications, and eventually a mental ward. John knew well the guilt Angela suffered after her twin had died to escape Gabriel, the guilt that burned in the back of her mind that would never fully be absolved.

Plus, dating a cop was also something not on John's list of life choices.

Angela was better off out of his life.

Unfortunately, he couldn't say the same for Elizabeth. Whether this was the right road or the wrong path was still undecided in his mind. John didn't like it; it felt like a trap. Probably God's booby prize for all the good deeds Constantine had done to earn his way back to Heaven.

No, that wasn't fair to his fiancée. John's lip curled at the term. He was glad he wouldn't have to use it to describe Elizabeth for very long.

Something inside reminded him of the panic he'd felt for her, when he'd had to kick in the bathroom door. Sure, he was pissed about the door, but he'd been more worried something had happened to her. Was he going soft? Developing feelings, after all these years of hard living and walling himself off to companionship?

He decidedly felt _something_ for Elizabeth. It wasn't lust but there was attraction. The virginity thing didn't bother him as much as he thought it should. Most guys steered as clear as possible from being some girl's first. Well, most guys. Some wanted nothing but virgins.

John just wasn't sure he could call it love.

Would it matter? Would they stay married long enough after this was all over for love to even develop?

They would find out soon enough.

Constantine rose. The door to Midnite's private office opened, allowing him to step back into the main club. There were more patrons now then when he'd first arrived. None of them really acknowledged the presence of John Constantine but all knew he was there.

He crossed back over to the stairwell, waiting at the bottom. His heart skipped a beat. What was happening to him? Was he actually excited to see Elizabeth, to go through with this?

"Get a grip." He muttered to himself. His heart kept up its increased activity. He looked up to find her slowly descending the stairs. "It's okay. Midnite knows you're coming."

"Was he expecting me last time, when I read the card on my own?" Her hand slipped into his as she reached his side. John blinked a bit.

She was holding his hand.

"Um, I don't know. Ask him, maybe." He shook off the giddy sensation and started back across to the office with Elizabeth in tow.

"Ask him?" The redhead raised a brow. John just smiled at her. Then he realized there was no talking, no chatting, nothing but the music playing. He looked around quickly.

All the demons were staring at them. The few humans in the place were just as confused as Constantine but nothing and no one said a word. Clearly the half-breeds knew who she was and more then a few toothy grins greeted them.

"John?" Elizabeth whispered. She moved slightly behind him, gripping the hell out of his hand.

"Come on." He squeezed back reassuringly and finished the long walk to Midnite's office. The door swung open for them and Constantine pulled Elizabeth in after him.

"Only you could silence such a crowd, John." Midnite grinned, his teeth so very white. "You must be the virgin."

"Is that how you introduce me to all your friends?" Elizabeth looked nonplussed.

"Midnite, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, this is Midnite." John looked around the office. "What is he doing here?" he pointed at the bishop.

Midnite finished kissing the back of Elizabeth's hand in greeting. "Owes me a favor. Besides, you want your marriage blessed in the eyes of your God."

"I thought you were going to perform the ceremony!"

"I never said that. I agreed to help you for the sake of your bride." Midnite shrugged. "Take it or leave it, Constantine." John snarled a bit under his breath then eyed the bishop. He was human, thankfully, and theoretically knew when to keep his mouth shut.

"All right, all right. Can we start?" John gave in. The bishop moved over in front of Midnite's desk, the Bible in hand. John glanced at the cover. It was the _proper_ Bible, not the Hell Bible. He took a deep breath, tried to shake the jitters away.

"Are you sure about this, John?" Elizabeth was looking at him. He saw the fear on her face, plain as day.

"I don't go back on my word." He turned his gaze to the bishop, digging in his pocket. "Give him the ring." She watched him for few seconds before pulling a ring from her coat pocket. It was a simple gold band, just like hers. Constantine watched her place it on the open pages of the Bible beside the other ring. Midnite moved behind them and raised his hands.

"Oh, _please_." John sighed. Midnite ignored him, his lips moving in incantation and prayers, Elizabeth watching in curious silence. The room was quiet until Midnite finished.

"Thank you." Elizabeth said to him. Midnite smiled and tipped his head to her.

"You'll thank me later, John."

"Not fucking likely."

"Are we ready to begin?" the bishop asked. "Please, come forward and face each other." He began the invocation and opening prayer, standard Catholic dogma. John let his mind wander a bit. "Does anyone object to this union?"

Constantine shot Midnite a glare. "Don't even." Midnite just smirked. John nodded at the bishop. "Continue on, padre."

"The union into which you are about to enter is the closest into which human beings can come. Your paths will be parallel, your responsibilities will increase, but your joy will be multiplied if you are sincere and earnest with one another." The priest continued.

_We know jack shit about each other, but it doesn't matter,_ John thought. _Who knows if we'll even last a week after this is all over._

"John Constantine, will you take Elizabeth Alder, here present, for your lawful wife according to the rite of our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church?"

Constantine looked directly at her, into those crystal blue eyes. "I will." The priest nodded.

"Elizabeth Alder, will you take John Constantine, here present, for your lawful husband according to the rite of our Holy Mother, the Catholic Church?"

Their eye contact had not broken, seemed almost visible between them. "I will." The priest nodded again. "Please join hands. John, do you take this woman to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, and forsaking all others, keep you only unto her, for so long as you both shall live?"

This was heavy stuff. Constantine felt her hands in his, soft and warm. She was really beautiful, even though she was wearing jeans and an old black shirt that barred a bit of her midriff. The red lighting in Midnite's office made her hair fiery and dazzled his eyes. Strike that, she was fucking hot. "I do." Again he felt the words escape his lips before his brain caught up.

Constantine heard the priest repeat the same question to Elizabeth. He realized that, yes, they did not know anything about the other, nothing more then what was volunteered in the past forty-eight hours, and that was _okay_. Sure, he was giving her opportunities for a lot of firsts she'd never had, but she was giving him his own opportunities. Elizabeth was someone who _didn't_ really know him, wasn't coming in with a whole ton of preconceived notions about him. So she'd read about him on the Internet. Half that stuff wasn't true anyway. She didn't seem to fear him and she hadn't flinched at his touch. Maybe there was something to her. Maybe this wasn't just a necessary path. Perhaps God was really dumping his soul mate into his arms.

God did love his plot twists.

"I do." Elizabeth's answer jarred him back to the present. Her gaze was still on his face. He tried to smile at her, to be reassuring. A tear spilled from the corner of her eye.

"Hey, none of that." He murmured, reaching up and softly smoothing it away with his thumb. She smiled, and they exchanged a soft laugh. The priest finished blessing the rings.

"Place this ring on Elizabeth's finger and repeat these words."

Constantine took up her left hand and slid the consecrated band onto her finger. He repeated the priest's words. "With this ring I thee wed, and pledge thee my troth." Elizabeth took up the ring for John and slid it onto his left hand.

"With this ring I thee wed, and pledge thee my troth." The words came harder for her. This was serious business to her and she saw it more as what it should be then an escape plan. Marriage was for life to her. John took it to heart and vowed to himself to do his best not to fuck it up on purpose. He couldn't imagine hurting her but his track record spoke volumes.

Somewhere inside a voice whispered, _Perhaps a fourth chance._ Maybe, just maybe.

The priest raised his hand above the couple and prayed. "Be appeased, O Lord, by our humble prayers, and in Your kindness assist this institution of marriage which You have ordained for the propagation of the human race; so that this union made here, joined by Your authority, may be preserved by Your help. Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son, Who lives and reigns with You in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end. Amen."

John wondered if Midnite had told the bishop anything about this marriage. Probably not, but the mention of propagation of the human race hit him funny and he had to bite the inside of his cheek. He'd just gotten married so he could get laid. _And_ save a girl from a horrible fate, not to mention probably save the world _again_... though this time by default. Still...

"You may now kiss your bride." The priest nodded to John. Constantine stared blankly at him. This showed how many weddings _he'd_ attended.

"Oh, yeah." He turned back towards Elizabeth. She was watching him, still holding his hands. She looked worried that maybe he really didn't take this as seriously as she did.

So John he kissed her. In a possessive way that should quell any doubts. He knew he'd caught her off-guard and ran with it, trying to ignite the fire inside her. It worked. Then she was kissing him, her arms sliding around his neck. Constantine groaned softly, his own passion aroused. Damn. If she could do this just with kissing...

"Save it for the hotel room." Midnite whispered in his ear. John blinked and broke away from Elizabeth. He found his hands around her waist, squeezing tightly. She was blinking, her lips lush and wet in the red lighting.

"Um, yeah. Uh. Thank you, Bishop." Constantine quickly shook the priest's hand then turned to Midnite. "I guess I won't get my bachelor's party after all."

"I don't think you'll be needing one." Midnite was appreciatively eyeing John's bride. "The sexual energy pent up in her alone-"

"I'll deliver the Jughead glass next Tuesday. Along with the coins." John held out his hand. Midnite looked at him for a long second then shook it. "Thanks." John knew Midnite would catch all the meaning in that one word.

"You owe me." Midnite reminded him. He turned and ushered the bishop out the back door before taking up the brief case he'd had brought in before the wedding. "A small wedding gift for each of you."

"Midnite, you old softy." John grinned wryly. What was Midnite up to?

Midnite thumbed the locks and clicked them open. The top of the case rose slowly. Built inside were two boxes, one much smaller then the other. Midnite removed the larger first and turned towards Elizabeth.

Opening the box he revealed two large bracelets. "These were carved from boar tusk and are sacred, protecting the wearer. They are blessed by the gods and guardians." He took one up in his hand; the bracelet was massive. It must have been carved from a single tusk. "Your arm." Elizabeth looked at John, who remained passive. Midnite didn't dispense with gifts freely and it wasn't his place to tell her not to take them. He didn't believe Midnite would harm his wife. _That_ was going to take some getting used to saying _that_ word!

Elizabeth held out her arm.

Midnite slid the bracelet over her hand, along her forearm, and settled it upon middle of her upper arm. He repeated with the second bracelet. The ivory was old, yellowed with age, and John could make out a few images carved into it, but most were unknown to him. The symbols were darkened by what he figured was blood and ashes.

Amazingly, Elizabeth didn't seem to be afraid of Midnite. Maybe because she just didn't know how powerful he was, John figured. He envied her ignorance just a bit.

Midnite placed both hands on the bracelets and spoke a few arcane words in a harsh tone. John saw Elizabeth flinch a tiny bit as the bracelets shrunk and dug into her flesh.

"What the..." John could sense the power in the bracelets. They were definitely legit artifacts; to work they had to be joined to the wearer. They weren't hurting her but it would be uncomfortable at first. Elizabeth touched them timidly, getting used to it.

"Now for you. Sorry, it isn't whiskey." Midnite retrieved the smaller box and opened it. Inside on a tiny silk cushion was a small charm. Carved of the same tusks of the boar bracelets Elizabeth wore. Midnite picked it up by the leather cord it hung on.

It was no bigger then a marble. Incredibly, the carving detail was incredibly intricate openwork to show it was not a solid ball. Scroll work and flower designs covered it.

"A bit girlish for me, don't you think?" Constantine eyed it.

"I have a deep feeling this will come in handy for you, Constantine. Do not use it unless you have to. It will only work once." Midnite looked directly into John's eyes and his voice finished his instructions inside John's mind: whispered words of incantations and chants, images of symbols and sigils. Constantine paid close attention, but couldn't help but wonder why Midnite was doing this.

"I will repeat, _only_ if it is your last resort." John bowed his head as Midnite placed the fetish around his neck.

"Gotcha." John held it between his fingers. The ivory seemed to pulse a bit, then felt normal. Midnite looked right in his eye again then turned to Elizabeth.

"It was very lovely to meet such a beautiful woman. How you ever ended up with one like Constantine... take care of him." He kissed the back of her hand once more. Turned to John. "You taken up too much of my time, _again_."

"We were just leaving." John took Elizabeth by the arm, got a handful of bracelet. "See you later, Midnite." John looked over his shoulder, but Midnite had already left via the back door.


	16. XVI

John and Elizabeth sat at the table in the kitchen in his apartment. The low hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock filled the silence between them. John had his hands on the table; Elizabeth had hers in her lap.

It was done. They were married. John had always thought, when it had randomly struck him in the dead of the night when he was alone and couldn't sleep, that if he were to ever marry, there would be much use of the term 'fucking like rabbits'.

But that's not how it was. Not at all.

He twisted the gold band on his left ring finger another turn. Funny, it fit perfectly. Constantine couldn't help but wonder about it. There had been signs, stuff he hadn't pieced together until now. The ink drawing of St. Elizabeth of Schonau was the first. She had been a Benedictine abbess who was a gifted mystic, had been known for her prophecies.

On his right was Elizabeth Alder...well, Elizabeth Constantine, if she chose to take his surname... who wasn't a well known anything, but had visions, premonitions, and just happened to be telepathic. Gee, Heaven was _so_ subtle.

Maybe God was making a few over due corrections and had returned John to the path his life would have taken, had he not committed suicide. His gaze flicked to her. Elizabeth sat, eyes cast down on her hands. She was twisting the band around her finger slowly, too. Constantine thought for a moment then focused.

_Elizabeth?_ He thought her name, thinking she might hear him. Nothing happened. She continued to sit there. She had her shields cranked way too high.

John leaned back in his chair. Was there going to be a magic moment or not? Chaz had said there was a time constraint but did he mean finding the girl or something else? What if they went and battled the angels now, catching them off-guard and finishing it that way, avoiding the sex all together? They had to be cut off from God, if all this was true. God had to know Andrew's plan.

And if God knew Andrew's plan... then all this was a setup. A plot to ensnare John in a sham marriage and ruin a poor girl's purity for no reason. Kid with an ant farm? More like ultimate practical joker!

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," John muttered aloud.

"What, John?" Elizabeth asked. He'd forgotten he wasn't alone like usual, talking out loud to just himself.

"Nothing." Constantine shook his head. He looked over at her. The redhead was looking at him, a mix of concern and fear on her face. He started to study her. She was pretty in a normal way: great eyes, great hair, and great mouth. A nice ass he'd already stared at when they'd met the second time. He swallowed and let himself leer, trying to see if that would get this moving.

She had a waist that he could wrap his hands around it. He'd found that out earlier. Her rack was large, definitely not porn star huge, but naturally big. The t-shirt she was wearing showed it off. He licked his lips unconsciously. There. A flicker of desire down deep jumped.

He tried. He tried hard, thinking of her in strange sexual positions. Then put her in bondage. A few darker scenarios followed. Everything he thought of was empty. Hollow. He could not see this girl in any of those fantasies. John's mind strayed tamer images of them in bed. He let his mind run a bit, still staring at her. How was he ever going to get the ball rolling?

Then Elizabeth did something unexpected: she stood up. Constantine shook his head, jarred from the mental fantasies. "What?"

Elizabeth walked down the long room slowly. He could hear her bare feet on the hardwood floor. Soft, light steps. It quickened his pulse. That was new. He saw her glance over her shoulder and look back at him. The florescent lights of the city danced on the highlights of her hair, the curve of her face framed by her tresses. She continued on until she reached the sleeping space.

She turned around and faced him, standing at the foot of his bed. Looking at John.

Elizabeth was initiating.

_Damn it, w_ as all John could think. It had been so long since a woman had picked him, not the other way around, and had asked him to go to bed. Half-breed demons didn't count; they were corrupted and greedy in getting their own out of the deal. A live human woman was a whole other concept for him. One that hadn't come his way in so many years he'd forgotten the feelings it caused.

Constantine put his hands on the table and pushed himself up from the chair. Slowly he walked the same path, down the long room, eyes never leaving hers. To her credit, she never flinched or looked away. In a long blink of an eye, he was in front of her.

"I take it, it can't be undone or given back."

"I know."

"You know, but are you _sure_?"

"Yes." Her answer hit him directly like a punch to the chest. He held still, trying not to show it. He could see the fear in her eyes. "I don't want to go through life not knowing."

Constantine furrowed his brow, looking deeper into her eyes. "There could be someone else. Someone better then me."

" _There is no one like you_ , _John_." Another strike to his heart, cracking the protective barrier. No one had ever had his number like Elizabeth did. The air was heavy around them, between them, electric.

Her hands were raised, undoing the tie around his neck. John felt the spark speed through his entire body and smack into his soul. Her fingers undid the knot then pulled it loose, sliding the tie down and away. She dropped it on the floor at her feet.

It was killing him. He realized suddenly he was breathing as hard as if he had run five miles. All he could do was stand there, watching, riveted as she untucked his shirt. His body seemed to lean towards her of its own volition as her hands undid the buttons of his shirt, one by one, till she'd reached the final one. Her hands were just above the spot that ached the worst.

She seemed to know, or to feel it, and she let her fingers linger on the last button. He ground his back molars against the moan that tried to escape as her hands moved north of the border, pushing his shirt open and exposing his chest.

Constantine so wanted to grab her hands and grind his crotch against her palms. He was shaking with the effort of holding back. Thoughts of not being able to go through with this became worse then the thoughts he'd faced as he was dying of cancer.

Elizabeth pulled the shirt free, sliding it off his shoulders, down his arms. Any time her skin touched his a blossom of heat exploded on the spot. Now his shirt was off, puddled on the floor over his tie.

Her hands whispered down his chest, down the line of his torso. John nearly screamed. How could she be doing so much to him with so little! No whore, no half-breed demon had ever done anything that caused such a reaction in him. He started to reach out, to grab her and take her, but found he couldn't yet. Not yet.

His hands hung empty in the air. John had to let her come to him.

Holding back became excruciating. Her fingers brushed his waist through the fabric of his pants. He almost howled. Every minute inch of him was alive, inflamed, aware. He was having trouble focusing, trying to keep his head above it all. Elizabeth was undoing his belt. _Oh God, let her hands stray lower!_ Constantine felt the leather slide free of the loops and hit the floor with a dull thud.

John knew he wasn't thinking directions, wasn't trying to guide her in a way her gifts could pick up. It just seemed natural, like she understood what to do. He felt the swirl of air as her hands moved towards the zipper, just as he realized they weren't on the same level.

"Wait." Constantine hissed, forcing himself to snap out of it enough so he could think clearly. Elizabeth looked up at him, her hands half way between them. John reached over and placed his hands to her sides, sliding them down to her hips. Elizabeth reacted, her eyes squeezing shut, shaking. He felt her body try to jump at his. Good. Taking up the hem of her t-shirt he pulled it upwards, slowly, over her head and off. Dropped it on top of his.

The air hit her skin and she flushed. John stared. There had been nothing under the shirt. He'd been expecting a bra, not her bare breasts.

"Damn." He whispered shakily, not expecting this at all. His blood rushed through his veins, headed to the appropriate areas. It was a long moment before he could pry his eyes away and look back to her face. She was looking at him, the fear back in her eyes.

"They're..." He started the compliment but saw the fear grow more in her eyes. He stopped. Rephrased him self. " _You're_ gorgeous." John spoke softly to her, watching as the fear disappeared. Their eyes were still locked as he brought his hand up slowly, carefully, and cupped her right breast. It was full, and round, and heavy in his hand. He groaned then and realized she did as well.

Squeezing gently, he let go and slid his hand upwards, along the side of her neck, then to cup the underside of her jaw. Together they stepped forward. Their mouths crushed together, each trying to posses the others. The rest of the remaining clothing flew off in a blur, joining the pile.

Then it was down to hands on flesh, rubbing and pressing skin, desperately seeking to keep contact while they continued to kiss the hell out of each other. Just as suddenly they were pressed together and somewhere in the dim haze of his conscious, John felt himself pressed between them, up against her stomach.

"Damn it." He groaned, his voice shaking. Impatiently he grabbed her hands and pulled her arms around his neck, taking her round the waist. It was easy to lift her, push Elizabeth down onto his bed. John ground his hips against hers, his body screaming, aching, and needing. He knew hers was doing the same, felt the heat rise off her skin in waves. She was gasping softly, over and over, trying to keep up with him.

Constantine kept grinding but slowed down, drawing it out. It was prolonging their agony but he didn't care. For the first time in his life, sex wasn't about him. Elizabeth was responding, drawing her nails down the skin of his back, running her fingers through his hair. He bowed his head and caught a delicate pink nipple with his tongue, slowly closed his mouth around it and sucked. She arched her back hard then, almost right out of his arms. He continued, enjoying her physical reactions.

"John... please..." she whispered, shaking so hard he finally noticed it over his own trembling. He looked down at her, found the want burning in her gaze. Without a sound he laid her down flat to the mattress, his hand brushing the inside of her thigh softly. He brushed it again, upwards this time and continued up enough until his palm was flat against the center of heat between her legs.

They both moaned loudly at the intimate contact. It was really all he could do then not to throw her legs wide and ram home. Somehow, some way, he was able to maintain enough clear thought to not ruin all this. He moved quickly, his finger dipping slow and careful inside of her.

Constantine nearly bit clear through his lips. There had never been something as hot and as tight as that in the history of the world. And it was his. _All_ his. He tasted copper suddenly and realized he _had_ split the inside of his lip. He blinked his vision clear and looked down.

Elizabeth was writhing underneath him, in what looked to be agony. She needed this as much as he did. There was no putting it off now; they'd gotten to the edge and had to jump.

John crawled completely over her, slowly easing his weight on top of her body. She whimpered, her hands flying to his back, endlessly rubbing and clawing his skin. It jarred him and he had to stop a second to regain his thoughts.

Constantine got his mouth to her ear and spoke. "Elizabeth." She cried out against him but nodded in recognition. "When I say so, I want you to drop your shields." Her eyes flew open and she looked up into his.

"What?"

"I want you to drop your shields." He left no room for questioning with this direct command. She searched his face then seemed to understand. Slowly John positioned himself, gently pulled her legs up and around his waist. She locked herself around him instinctively. Constantine smirked to himself. Some things you couldn't learn; you just already knew them.

John felt like he did when he was crossing the invisible seam between the Hell reality and this reality. Like he was standing on a cliff, about to jump, and had one chance to connect. Tenderly he pushed the strands of her hair away from her face and neck, brushing them back over her shoulder. He was still poised, pressed to her entry.

"Drop them." He commanded softly. At the same time he dropped his own, feeling the blinding white presence of her purity come up against him like a brick wall. It dazzled his inner sight but he'd prepared for it.

Crushing his mouth to hers in an act of absolute possession, John pushed himself inside Elizabeth with a firm and steady thrust. Constantine felt himself roar into her mouth as the blinding white light totally engulfed and entered him. It was much like how time stopped when he caught the vibration of Hell's gateway. But time didn't stop. The blinding light winked out instantly like an extinguished flame, forever gone. Suddenly he could see again.

Looking down, John found himself wrapped so tightly around Elizabeth, his arms around her body, his fingers tangled deep in her hair. She was around him just as tightly, her legs locked around his waist, her fingernails dug into the skin that stretched over his shoulder blades. They'd both held their breath. Just two things were different.

He was buried deep within her body and she was no longer a virgin.

Their eyes met. Constantine slowly smiled down at her, his face spreading into a grin. Elizabeth slowly grinned back as he broke into a laugh. She joined him before their mouths once again sought the other out and came together. They enjoyed each other for a while, he letting her adjust to him, she teasing the hell of out him by squeezing her legs tightly around him.

John broke off. "You're kind of a tease, you know." She grinned up at him wickedly. "All right. My turn." He moved a bit, getting a better angle and slowly thrust into her. Elizabeth hissed, arching a bit against him.

"Oh God..." she moaned.

"If you're going to call a name, make it mine." John gently nipped her ear, nuzzled his face to her neck, and continued on. They didn't need too much before they were at the frenzied level again. Constantine groaned, his mouth kissing or biting anything he could reach. She had one of his nipples between the pads of her fingers and was torturing him.

He was close, probably more then she. The haze and the heat swam before his eyes. John could honestly say there was nothing better then being this virgin's first lover. His mind started to wonder on the ramifications of this, not realizing his hand was straying down her side, crossing up and over her thigh and coming between them.

"John!" She squeaked, pulling him back. He realized where his hand was.

"Ohhhh." He grinned down at her, catching her mouth with his own then pulled away, speeding all his movements up. "Trust me, you'll love this." He could tell she was by the way Elizabeth was tensed against him. Suddenly she screamed and Constantine felt he could barely move inside of her, the heat engulfing him.

With a roar of his own, Constantine found his release. His climax blew him away, blew his mind to a level he'd never been to. It felt almost like he imagined Heaven would feel. It continued on and he never wanted to leave. He knew his body was below him somewhere; felt his body move a bit, no longer under his control.

Distantly he felt Elizabeth's hand slide up over his shoulder, down his back. He felt the ring on her finger touch his skin. And then there was no more thought, no more consciousness.


	17. XVII

John Constantine was dreaming. Not having nightmares, not reliving the terrors he had experienced first hand, not laying in bed with insomnia in the wee hours of the morning, alone with just his thoughts. He was _dreaming!_ He couldn't truly catch what he was seeing but the scraps he caught he knew were good, peaceful things. Things he had thought he could never reach again.

But here he was, in dreamland.

In reality, his conscious mind started to awaken though he continued to dream. More and more he became aware, awakening slowly. The last of the dreams shredded away, disappearing too fast to be remembered. John realized his body was relaxed, he felt content, and dare he say it? Happy. He felt _happy_.

Constantine slowly opened his eyes, noting he was wrapped about something soft and cushy. He'd probably crushed his pillow to death and it would be lumpy forever. He groaned softly, still coming out of the haze. He realized his head laid against something soft as well. Maybe he hadn't ruined both pillows.

As he became more aware, he realized his pillow had a heart beat.

His eyes shot open and he started a bit, a hard and fast jerk, to see what he was wrapped around. As his vision focused, he remembered. He remembered everything; it rushed back over him like a wave. John looked up into Elizabeth's face.

"I was dreaming," he whispered the words, almost in awe. "I was _dreaming_..." John suddenly realized she was awake, too. Looking into her eyes, he smiled like a fucking idiot. It was almost like Christmas morning when you were a kid and you got everything _and more_ then what you had asked Santa for. "Elizabeth, I was dreaming!"

She made no sound, no recognition of what he was saying. Constantine narrowed his gaze and looked closer at her. Elizabeth's eyes were blank, as though her mind was somewhere else. Looking down, he realized her arm was between them. Her fingertips were on the fetish charm that Midnite had given him.

Constantine realized the blankness in her eyes meant she was seeing a vision, possibly a premonition. He held still, as much as possible, though he could feel worry building in his mind. He was actually worried about someone. _Him_ , John Constantine!

There wasn't anything he could do. It would have to end before she'd snap back to reality. Careful not to jostle her, John pulled the sheets up around them.

It was a long moment before Elizabeth inhaled a deep breath, her vision coming back into focus. Her hand dropped away from the fetish.

"What did you see?" he asked quietly, as her eyes came back into focus. Elizabeth shook her head. "Nothing."

"If it was about this, or could affect this, you have to tell me." John realized his tone was harsh, like something he'd use on someone to get information. He hadn't meant it. Not to her. It was just habit. His conscience chided him. "Please," he added after a long pause. He so rarely said that word it felt foreign on his lips.

She gently touched his cheek. "You dreamed?" John knew she wasn't going to tell, no matter what now. Inside he cursed himself out as he nodded. "Yes."

"Were they good dreams?"

"They were the first good dreams I've had since... I can't remember when." The feelings washed over him again and he felt the freedom tug on him, try to carry him off once more.

"You deserved them." Her thumb was smoothing his cheek, his bottom lip. John watched her, not able to see enough of her, felt the desire rise again. It was then that he realized she'd given him the dreams. Somehow, she'd done it and had given him the first night's peaceful sleep in his lifetime.

_"Thank you."_ He meant it, was grateful to her. Elizabeth smiled back at him. Constantine slowly moved up and put his mouth to hers, showing his deep gratitude as he kissed her. The desire rose more as he began showing her the great art of French kissing. His pulse quickened and he felt more then just his desires rise again.

Elizabeth pulled away, catching her breath. John was breathing just as hard. He looked at her, confused.

"Is something wrong?"

"No. I want to. Really, I do. I just don't think..." she trailed off. He felt her embarrassment but this time she did not blush.

"Oh." He hadn't really thought about that. "No. You're right. We don't have to move that fast."

Carefully he rolled off her, stretching out beside her on the mattress. Constantine slid his arms around her, gently pulling her to him, carefully wrapping himself around her like a living blanket. Elizabeth went directly to him, her face buried in his chest, her arms curled up against him. It was obvious to him Elizabeth wasn't capable of putting up her mental shield at he moment. He kept his thoughts positive, reflecting on the joys they had experienced, shared. Slowly she relaxed and John knew this would be another way to comfort her, in their private moments. He rubbed her back, gently, his other arm still tightly wrapped around her.

Constantine wasn't telepathic. That wasn't one of his many gifts. But it didn't require powers to read a person. _That_ he was good at.

The problem was, did he believe what he was about to say?

John thought about it, putting up enough of his own mental shields that he was certain Elizabeth would read them unknowingly. He didn't want her to, only because he wasn't sure yet. If he said it, he couldn't ever take it back. Just like taking her virginity. Once he said the words, he was pretty much making a vow.

Then he remembered her under him, how she felt. How she'd given everything up to him without saying it in words, but showing it physically. No one had given over to him so completely, without asking everything in return.

Constantine realized he could never deny this woman anything for the rest of his life. Whatever little he had, all material possessions, _his very life_ , were hers. The last hardened bits around his heart fell away.

"I love you, Elizabeth." He spoke the words softly, his mouth directly to her ear. Elizabeth's hands slid up his chest, her arms went around his neck and she held on to him tighter then before. John continued to rub her back, pulling the comforter up around them. After a long while of just holding each other, he felt her fall asleep in his arms, finding the same peace he had found in his dreams.


	18. XVIII

"Really, this is no different then that trick you do to catch a cab."

Elizabeth was sitting in the chair at the end of the table. John was standing beside her, one hand on the table, the other on the back of the chair.

"But that's not... I'm calling attention to myself. I guess that's kind of influencing, but not like this. And catching a cab is short-range, not long distance."

Constantine sighed. "I'm not asking you to try and influence the half-breed. I don't think you could. I just want you to reach out and see if you can touch someone. A specific someone."

"I'm not the phone company, John."

"Elizabeth, please. I wouldn't ask this of you if I didn't think it would work." Which was partially true; He would have asked whether he thought so or not, period. "You can do this. You got in once."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "Yeah and I was still, as you put it, 'pure' at the time. Plus I was standing outside his office."

"Now you get to stretch your metaphysical muscles." Constantine leaned back, brushing away a piece of hair that had fallen into her eyes.

"Explain to me once more why I have to do this?" She sighed, growing a little exasperated. Her understanding was still limited. Constantine studied her for a moment.

"Because whatever this asshole is trying to accomplish could mean the end of the world as we know it. I've been there. I've seen what they can do, what they're capable of. I know, I know. This is all so new to you. You think you're at a disadvantage. But you're not. Really, you don't ever want to see what I've seen. It's my job to stop them. Do this for me."

Elizabeth's eyes met his; the cold blue crystals that floated her in sweet face studied him. John held his ground. He still didn't know exactly what Andrew was up to but what they had uncovered so far was more then enough to set his hackles up. He _so_ wanted to deport this freak to his final destination point.

"Please." Constantine added after a long moment, playing his last card.

Elizabeth exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. John stepped back to give her room, folding his arms across his chest. For five full minutes she cast around, drawing up nothing.

"I can't do it." Her shoulders sagged. "Maybe I just don't have the ability anymore."

"You didn't lose your abilities."

"But we... you know."

Constantine smirked. "Having sex is not going to take away your abilities. It'll take the edge of them. You won't blind the hell out of me when I touch you any more if your shields are down. But they're not gone."

"Are you sure?"

"Mine didn't go away when I got laid." He saw face twitch; the mention of others before he was with her might be a sore spot and they didn't really have the time to get into an argument.

"Try with me."

"John, you're standing next to me."

"That may be so but...wait a minute." He reached down inside the front of her shirt. Elizabeth gasped, startled. Withdrawing the triquetrous amulet that had once been Hennessy's, Constantine smiled wryly.

"You thought I was gonna cop a feel, didn't you." He snapped the chain gently and removed it, tossing it on the table. "Interference gone. Try with me."

Elizabeth shut her eyes, her hands folded in her lap. John stood still, waiting. He kept a single thought at the forefront of his mind, making the test easy. The redhead's eyes snapped open. She was glaring at him. Constantine chuckled.

"Inappropriate."

"Maybe, but we're husband and wife now."

Huffing at him, Elizabeth shook her head. "I guess that amulet was interfering."

"Doing its job but yes, interfering. Now. Try for Andrew."

Elizabeth took a deep breath, exhaled, and her eyes shut once more. Within an instant her spine went rigid and she sucked in another breath before she began to speak.

" _Constantine._ " A demonic-sounding hissed out through her lips. The hair on the back of John's neck rose. " _John Constantine..._ " The voice dropped register and became steady. A male voice; Andrew! John kept silent. "You always have to interfere don't you. Such a nosy busybody you are, Constantine! No matter. You have only temporarily set back my plans. Sending the girl to read my mind again..." The Cherub tsked. "You did it once. Stupid of you to think I wouldn't notice a second time, Constantine." Andrew sounded arrogant, self-assured. Chaz hadn't been kidding when he'd said the Cherub had developed a healthy ego.

"What the hell do you want, half-breed?"

Andrew chuckled through Elizabeth. She was his crude puppet, like an oracle in Greek mythology that spoke for the gods. "I would like the girl back, of course. See, she's just a pawn, but a very important pawn."

"I am so going to deport your sorry ass the second I lay eyes on you." John growled.

"Now John, that's just boastful of you. Pride goeth before a fall!" Elizabeth's body jerked, contorting in spasm.

"Fuck you, asshole! Let her go!"

"Not until you promise like a good little boy to bring her to me." Elizabeth's body began to shake uncontrollably. John grunted, wracking his brain but unable to come up with a counter attack. "You don't really want me to hurt her, do you John? Such a sweet innocent girl, pure... so very pure..."

John grinned widely. Andrew didn't know! They still had the upper hand. "All right, I'll bring her. And I promise you, I will _personally_ send you straight to Hell so you can hang out with Gabriel."

"You've got till the sun sets, Constantine."

Elizabeth stopped shaking, her back arching hard before she slid from the chair, sprawling on the floor like a broken doll.

John reached down and picked her up, slinging her in his arms. Carefully he carried her to the bed. Checked for a pulse; it was shallow but there.

"Elizabeth?" He called her name softly. He checked her pulse again. "Elizabeth!" There, her pulse quickened when John called her name. Constantine removed her shirt, checking the boar tusk bracelets.

They had turned black, the top layer of burned ivory flaking off. John brushed them with a fingertip. The ash rubbed off, revealing the yellowed ivory below. They had done their job. Midnite's voodoo had protected her.

"Lucky guess." Constantine sneered, brushing the ashes off the surface of both bracelets. The carvings shimmered gold then faded to normal. Midnite must have tested her mental shields and found them lacking. He was more sneaky then a computer hacker. When Andrew had taken her over, he hadn't found anything amiss. He still thought Elizabeth was a virgin.

John called her again. "Elizabeth." Her eyes moved beneath the lids but she didn't respond. Wherever Andrew had displaced her, in order to speak through her, she was having trouble getting back from.

Closing his eyes and taking her hand in both of his, John concentrated. Mentally he shouted her name, hoping she could hear him. He would act like a beacon, a light to guide her home.

_Elizabeth! Come on! Hear me!_

Still holding her hand, he pressed his palm to her forehead and repeated the words in his mind. Elizabeth jerked under his touch.

_Elizabeth! Can you hear me? Focus, follow my voice!_

On the bed, the redhead inhaled hard, her eyes opening suddenly. John squeezed her hand, his other running through her hair. "That's it, easy now. You're safe."

His wife said nothing as she searched his face, her gaze refocusing in recognition. The relief was palatable as her fear abated, as Elizabeth returned to herself. The tears fell, the sobs racking her body, as moved across the mattress and pressed her face into Constantine's chest.

John held her, remaining silent because he had no words of comfort. It was a cold reality, what had been done to her, and though Midnite's bracelets had protected her, Elizabeth would always remember Andrew pushing her out of her own mind.

When the worst of her sobs had subsided, John sat down beside her. The mattress dipped under him, causing Elizabeth to slide against him. Slowly he stroked her hair, for once not sure what to do.

"I'm sorry I can't help you. I should have warned you. It was always a possibility that that would happen. Not exactly possession but mental manipulation..."

"Stop, John."

Constantine shook his head. "I... I should have told you. You can be angry with me. At some point you would be. It's just a part of being me. I'm used to it."

"No." Elizabeth choked out the word in a whisper.

"Seriously, it's okay."

"No!" Her voice rose, more steady then before. Using the edge of the sheet she wiped her eyes, finally looking up at him. The blue was colder then before, angry, flashing with emotion. The edges of her eyes were red from all the crying.

John looked back, wisely staying silent.

"I don't know where he sent me. It was cold, dark, endless."

"Probably the astral plane beyond the reach of space and time its self."

Elizabeth shuddered at the memory. She paused to collect her self. "I got what you wanted."

John tipped his head, looking down at her. "What I wanted?"

"At first, his mind was still the blinding white emptiness, like the first time I listened. But when Andrew began to force me out, send my mind... my spirit... away to that other place, I started to hear singing. Voices were singing. In a language I don't understand."

"Probably Latin."

Elizabeth glared at John but the anger was dissipating. "The harder he pushed me out, the more discordant the song became. It was like a record being played on the wrong speed."

"Did it sound like something speaking backwards?" John asked. "Maybe reciting a message?"

"No. More like off-key, strained. Reminded me of heavy metal music, with the yelling and roaring."

"The song of the Fallen." John nodded, confirmation made. Andrew's link to the Heavenly Father was severed. He looked down to find Elizabeth burying her face against his chest. Wordlessly he went back to stroking her hair, letting his fingers untangle the tiny snarls. They stayed silent as she recovered from her ordeal.

Constantine leaned closer, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. He left a trail of soft kisses down the line of her nose followed until he reached her mouth. Bestowing a kiss of compensation and apology, John cupped her cheek in his palm. Elizabeth kissed him back, gaining strength from the simple gestures. Slowly John pulled back, looking down into her gaze.

"We don't have time." He was actually disappointed.

"After. When you've put the bastard in his place."

John gave her a crooked smile. "If that's what you want."

Elizabeth rolled away from him and off the bed, pulling her shirt back on. Constantine watched the bones in her shoulders move as she dressed, fighting the desire rising inside him. There wasn't time for pleasure; the clock was ticking down faster and faster. He watched his wife walk around the bed and disappear into the bathroom. The sound of running water splashing in the sink roused him from his reverie. Slightly lingering, Constantine got up and began to make a list of supplies he would need.

It was deportation time.


	19. XIX

"Let me guess. You love Monty Python's _Holy Grail_." Elizabeth was eyeing all the objects and artifacts Constantine had laid out on the kitchen table. He blinked, stopping what he was doing and looked at her. She pointed at the Holy Shotgun. "You've got the Holy Hand-grenade tucked away somewhere, don't you."

"Actually it's a Holy Shotgun."

"Papal-approved?"

John picked it up, hefted it in his hands. "I used it to wipe out demons."

"Does it work on Cherubim?"

"Never actually killed an angel." He checked the chambers to make sure they were all empty. "The same principles should apply: breech their outer shells, their human suits, and they're vulnerable. Even so, these aren't full angels we're dealing with. These half-breeds decided they're cocks of the walk and haven't realized their power source has been cut off like L.A. during a brownout."

Elizabeth raised a brow. "So, the difference is?"

"They've been corrupted. Basically, they've turned their backs on God, which will make them about a step above a true demon. It's a little trickier then killing an actual half-breed demon; that I could do in my sleep. Not that I want to. The standard incantations should work on these guys once they're wounded. The sounds you heard, the off-key singing? That tells me they're not in touch with the big man anymore. I'm not going to assume God took it a step further and rendered them human yet." John's memories jumped to Gabriel and the right hook he'd used to introduce the newly made human to pain. "But I will err on the side that they probably have powers left. Not to mention will get pissed off real quick when we start to attack."

Elizabeth looked at one of the ampoules of holy water, turning it over in her hand, up to the light. "Holy water against angels?"

"Breaks holes in unholy things. Plus there might be some demons posing. You can never be too prepared." He removed a box of shells from the sack of items he'd retrieved from Beenman's stock.

"Elephant rounds? We're going on safari?"

Constantine smirked. "Not exactly trophy hunting. Everlasting glory, maybe." He spilled some of the shells out and lined them up. Held his palm above and recited a blessing upon them. John split them into two piles and handed Elizabeth a screwdriver. "Scratch a cross into the outer casings, will you."

Shrugging, she set to work while he packed the rest of the supplies. Constantine crossed the room and pulled the slim black Bible from its shelf and slipped it into the inner pocket of his coat.

"Your eyes were black. When I saw you outside Midnite's that first time."

"Scleral contacts." Elizabeth answered, continuing to scratch into the bullet casings.

"Contacts? Why?"

"It would be easy to identify me by my eyes, wouldn't it?" Constantine nodded. "Okay, so stick in a pair of scleral contacts, instant change. Why are you asking now?"

"Demons and half-breeds, their eyes are black and glow, red or yellow-green, when I see them."

Elizabeth smirked. "Your wife isn't a half-breed, demon or angel. You don't need to worry, John." She set the last shell on the tabletop. Constantine grabbed a few up and started loading them. "Shouldn't I have a gun, too?"

"You're not coming with me."

"Um, Andrew will notice when I'm not standing next to you."

Constantine set the Holy Shotgun down on the counter a little hard, for effect. "You're staying behind. I only _told_ him I'd bring you. I didn't make a promise. I'm not getting you killed. I've lost _enough_ of my friends, thank you!"

Elizabeth's gaze met his; he glared at her. "John, I'm responsible for you being in this mess."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You met me, figured out what I was."

"And?"

Elizabeth's gaze dropped. "Now you're stuck with me. Well, not really. You can kick my ass to the curb when this is done and forget..."

"Stop!" Constantine roared. "Enough! Don't you get it? Yeah, maybe at first I figured this was just the best path to take, because I couldn't find any other one. But you did not drag me into this. I was charged by Heaven to take care of their Andrew problem. I told you I didn't go into that church for you. I came out with you, though. And I'll be damned if I'm going to lose you now!" He was shaking, his hands gripping the sides of the table, angry at how little she valued herself.

"I'm sorry, John." Elizabeth looked away, twisting the gold wedding ring on her finger. He stepped back, eyes closing, trying to regain a grip. "But I have to go with you."

Constantine felt like she'd sucker punched him. "Please do me the courtesy of telling me why?"

"When I touched the fetish... this morning... I just have to go, John. Please." She looked up at him, into his face. He could see whatever she'd had a vision about had to be pretty important. Every bit of him screamed not to let her go. But he already knew there was no denying her.

"You'll do everything I say?"

"I promise."

"I'll get you a gun." He turned on his heel and headed downstairs again.


	20. XX

"We couldn't have taken a cab?" Elizabeth stepped off the Metro, looking back at John who followed along behind.

"You said you rode the public transport all the time." He waited till the bus drove away and turned the corner before removing the shotgun from under his trench coat. They were standing across the street from the gigantic building complex that was Our Father's Church, Andrew's base of operations. There were lights on in some of the windows but John couldn't see any movement.

"Somebody's home. Elizabeth, can you maybe try and get a lead on who's in there?"

The redhead bit her lip, reluctant. Constantine didn't blame her, not after the last time she'd make a mental connection.

"Nothing specific. I'm just trying to get a head count." John checked the clip of the handgun he'd brought along for Elizabeth.

Nodding, Elizabeth closed her eyes and concentrated. "One... four... seven." She rocked on her feet a bit, eyes flying open, hand casting around to grab something before she fell over. Constantine caught her elbow and steadied her.

"What?"

"The singing... it's gotten a lot worse."

"Just the singing is all you heard?"

"For seven of them."

John looked down at her. "And number eight?"

"I... I think that was Andrew."

Constantine nodded, slowly letting go of her, making sure she was steady again.

"Whatever you do, stay behind me. Don't use the gun until I tell you. The same for the rest. When you fire, aim for their heads or direct center of the chest. Mortal wounds work the best. The holy water... go for the face with that. Direct skin contact is best. Above all don't lose your ring; the Pope blessed it. Any questions?"

"The Pope, huh."

John smiled wryly. "Indeed."

"So I stay quiet, do what I'm told..."

"And you might get to live." John watched her for reaction. He saw her pupils dilate a bit, like she was looking far off into the distance at something only she could see. But it was so quick John brushed it off. "I won't lie to you, Elizabeth. The last big job... I lost my apprentice. An angel smashed him between the ceiling and the floor, snapped his spine. I lost the guy who did research and supplies for me. He was eaten from the inside out by bugs. And on top of it, the son of Satan possessed the last woman I helped. Mammon tried to use her as a gateway to this reality. All because she and her twin were powerful psychics."

"No wonder you have self-esteem issues, Constantine."

"Working with me isn't tip toeing through the tulips. I told you, I wouldn't lie to you." He stopped, staring down at her. The silence hung between them as he felt the weight of his words. Working with him was pretty much like signing your own death warrant and handing the executioner the axe.

Then Elizabeth did something that made his heart race. She took his empty hand in hers; he felt the cool gold band touch his skin. "For better or worse, John. Till death do us part." His fingers twined with hers, squeezing tight.

Constantine kissed her then, a sweet loving kiss that was also a promise. "I will bring you out alive."

Still holding hands, they crossed the empty street towards the church. The street was deathly quiet; no traffic, no people walking the sidewalk: a still and silent wasteland. John took it as a sign they were expected.

"John Constantine." A smartly dressed man approached them as they entered the lobby. John swung the shotgun up and aimed. It was no regular man but a demon half-breed in sheep's clothing. His eyes glowed red in identification.

"What?" Constantine growled.

"He's waiting for you." The man pointed at the doors. "In the sanctuary." Elizabeth grabbed the edge of John's trench coat.

"What is that awful buzzing noise?" she whispered in his ear, keeping behind him.

"Probably what this demon's mind sounds like." Constantine replied, loading a round into the chamber. "Why are you telling us where Andrew is?"

"Helping the cause." The half-breed grinned. "We're on the same side this time, you know." He held up his hands in a gesture of innocence. Constantine pulled the trigger of the shotgun and blew him away. The blessed bullet did its job, breaching the outer skin of the demon's soul. John spoke the incantation that sped the demon's soul back to hell.

"Thanks for the help." He growled, ejecting the spent cartridge and moving on. Elizabeth glanced at the corpse as it twitched then lay still. "All right, seven to go. Ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Elizabeth cocked the gun in her hands and nodded. "Some honeymoon this is."

Constantine chuckled, gave her a rare smile. "Nothing but the best for you." He stepped forward and shoved the swinging doors to the sanctuary open.

The angels that had followed Andrew to earth flanked the circular center platform. John could see their wings, which were outstretched. They were in guard mode. Great. The middle two of the six dropped their wings and revealed their leader, Andrew, standing on the center of the platform. His arms were raised, stretched out along with the double set of wings. Constantine took a guess and figured he was going through the motions, still pretending as though he were praising his Father above. Too bad Andrew's direct line had been disconnected.

John raised the shotgun and started down the middle of the aisle, studying the enemy. Andrew wore an expensive silk suit in a deep navy color, with an equally expensive white dress shirt underneath. His brown hair was styled perfectly, complete with a haircut that probably cost nearly as much as his dress shirt. Andrew's human eyes were a warm, dark chocolate brown that filled his flock of human sheep with the feeling that he truly loved them. Constantine could see his half-breed eyes, the black orbs that glowed brightly with the inner fire of Creation.

Around his neck Andrew wore a costly chain from which hung a simple gold cross, the earthly embodiment of his loyalty to Heaven. Small golden crosses were pinned to each lapel of his suit, giving him an air of a classier version of a television evangelical. He looked like the everyman's man, although much richer. His massive wings were fully extended to his sides, stretched out to maximum wingspan. John began to wonder if this was what the daughters of man had been excited by, when the Sons of God had descended to the Earth and tried to get it on with them.

"Show off," John muttered under his breath.

"Ah, our brother Constantine has blessed us with his presence!" Andrew's voice needed no amplification. It explained why there was no sound system built into the room, no massive speaker towers. No need.

"More like I'm an immigration official come to inform you your green card expired." John kept the shotgun raised, coming to stop at the end of the last row. He was about hundred feet from the vanguard of angels.

"Why would I want to leave this world? When shortly it will be transformed, the gates reopened and Paradise reborn!"

"There's something in the water in Heaven, isn't there." Constantine snorted. "All the angels are whacked in the head."

Andrew laughed, letting his voice echo around the room. "You must be speaking of Gabriel."

"He was only the most recent."

"Poor Gabriel. Gabriel was insane, you see. Spent too much time on earth with mankind, too much thought on human existence. Instead of bringing pain and suffering to prove humanity's worth, I will bring them a new shepherd; one they can see and touch and _know_ is real. No longer will the human race need blind faith for their salvation!"

"Haven't you seen a James Bond movie while you've been down here? I'll sum it up for you. This is the part where the bad guy tells the good guy his evil plans then leaves his henchmen to kill the good guy. But the good guy escapes and because the bad guy revealed his plan, the good guy uses it against him. Basically the perfect scheme comes back and bites evil in the ass." Constantine looked down at the shotgun, loading a fresh round.

"I've never hidden my plan, John Constantine. You thought you could foil it, but you're the one who's delivered the virgin mother of our new savior into my hands!"

John smirked. "Elizabeth?" The redhead stepped out from behind him to stand at his side. "Please, show Andrew."

Elizabeth held up her left hand, high, so Andrew could see the golden ring on her finger. Andrew's nostrils flared, but he otherwise remained calm. "You married her."

"It isn't a promise ring."

"But she's still a virgin. A perfect womb to plant the seed that will be my son in." John began to chuckle as Andrew spoke. "You laugh at me, sinner?"

"Whole-heartedly. Hands down, one of the best sexual experiences I've ever had." Constantine winked at his wife, then turned his attention back to Andrew.

The Cherub blinked, confused. "What? No."

"Popped that cherry but good."

"John!" Elizabeth hissed, her cheeks flushing with color. Constantine grinned at her.

"I'm just making sure Andrew understands you're not that patch of virgin earth he was hoping to till."

Andrew roared. The sound rolled around the circular chamber, louder then any thunder that came from the Heavens. Elizabeth jammed her fingers in her ears, holding the gun under her arm. Constantine just stood there, grinning at the enemy.

"You made her a whore! You ruined her purity!"

"I married her, in the eyes of God, and made her my wife on the marriage bed, asshole. Get your facts straight." Constantine pulled Elizabeth's fingers out of her ears and stuffed the gun back in her hands. Once he was sure she had the proper grip, he roared the command "Fire!"

The angels guarding Andrew leapt into the air, flying directly at John and Elizabeth. Constantine pulled the trigger and took out the closest, destroying the angel's skull entirely. It dropped to the ground, crashing into the rows of pews. He rapidly pumped the shotgun, loading another round, and took out the second closest angel. It crashed in a heap close to the first one. Pulling an ampoule of holy water from the river Jordan from his coat pocket, John tossed it at them, incanting the proper words. Their souls were immediately sent to Hell.

"Three down!" he called to Elizabeth, watching her shoot a half-breed that skimmed the air above her head. She caught it in the chest with one of the blessed bullets, causing it smashed into a pile of chairs near the back of the sanctuary. "Toss holy water on it, I'll do the rest!"

Elizabeth snatched a vial out of her pocket and tossed it. On impact the glass broke and bathed the angel with the blessed water. It screamed, clawing at its skin, tearing off big strips in the process. John gave its soul a metaphysical drop kick and sent it off to eternity. Twisting, he took down the other two angels that were hanging back, making them drop like ducks from the air. They crashed into bloodied heaps on either side of the sanctuary, out of reach for the holy water. No matter. He'd exploded their skulls; all they needed was a push and down they went, spiritually.

"I think the gig is up, Andrew." Constantine reloaded and turned back towards the center podium.

The Cherub wasn't there.


	21. XXI

"John!"

Elizabeth screamed as Andrew swooped down from his hiding place at the top of the vaulted ceiling. Gone was his loving, benevolent face of a human, replaced by the head of a gigantic lion. Andrew roared in anger, baring fangs as thick as steel bars. John didn't duck in time. The half-breed caught him, sailing back into the air, the exorcist in tow.

The Cherub's humongous wings held him aloft, flapping in great strokes, sending anything not nailed down flying through the wind gusts they created. His massive hands closed tightly around John's throat. John could feel the darkness closing in as he was strangled, clouding his vision. He tried to claw at Andrew's fingers but couldn't gain any purchase. The Cherub was too strong.

Shots rang out and the lion-headed Andrew roared. John gasped, managing to suck some air into his lungs as the grip on his throat faulted. Suddenly Constantine and Andrew were dripping wet. Elizabeth had pelted them with every vial of holy water she had. The skin of the lion's face, the fur of his mane, began to melt. John grunted loudly as he managed to pull his arm back. The punch was solid, striking Andrew right in the snout.

Startled, dazed from the holy water bombs, Andrew lost his grip. Constantine dropped ten feet down to the carpeted floor. He groaned, lying still, mentally checking to make sure nothing had been broken by his fall. _Still in one piece._ The Cherub remained hovering in the air above him, bellowing in rage.

Scooping up the holy shotgun, Constantine fired once, then twice, into Andrew.

"Holy Father!" With a pitiful cry, Andrew dropped from the air and fell to the ground, crumpled in a bloody mess. Constantine knew the fight wasn't over. He had to send Andrew down to the pit, where Lu was probably setting up a welcoming fiesta. John imagined solider demons as piñatas. It was a hilarious image.

Pulling the slim black book from his inner top pocket, he took the few steps towards Andrew's crumpled and stood over him. One hand held the Bible open to the appropriate page; the other held the shotgun against what remained of the lion-like forehead.

As Constantine opened his mouth to say the words, he caught the barest of movement in his peripheral vision. Elizabeth barreled into him at full speed, shoving him aside.

"No!" John yelled, as the powerful jaws of the lion-headed Cherub clamped down on the redhead's side.

Elizabeth screamed, caught on the thick fangs. Andrew shook his head, flailing his prey like she was a rag doll. Constantine could hear her flesh tear, rip open, as the sharp teeth sliced through like knives. The Cherub's jaws lost their hold on her, sending the redhead sailing into the wooden pews.

Whirling around on his knees, John raised the shotgun and emptied the remaining bullets into the Cherub's face, blasting Andrew's head away in chunks, until nothing remained but a headless corpse.

Panting from the effort, John blinked through the spray of blood and bone matter that filled the air. Andrew's body sagged under its own weight, crumpling to the floor. All the lights in the sanctuary dimmed quickly before they shut off completely, plunging the room into darkness.

"...John."

"Elizabeth!" Constantine staggered, wishing he still had his lighter.

"Constantine." Her voice was weak, fading. "...John."

Turning round and round, John saw a flare of golden light. The tusk bracelets glowed briefly before they winked out. John dashed towards a pile of broken pews, no more than splintered wood. Sliding on his knees, he came to a stop at the edge of the heap, dropped the shotgun and began to throw pieces out of his way.

"Hold on!" He instructed, lifting a large piece and tossing it aside. Reaching to move more, his hands landed on Elizabeth. She groaned softly. "I'm here!"

"...John."

Constantine slid his hands over her, trying to pick her up, when he caught his hand on something wet and ragged. Confusion turned quickly into disbelief. "No. No!"

Grabbing the shotgun, John aimed and fired the dragon's breath at a pile of broken pews on the opposite side of the aisle. The wood caught, the fire illuminating the dark sanctuary. It was a foolish move but the only way he could see how bad the injury was.

"John... I can't..."

"Stop." He barked harshly, not meaning to, as he inspected Elizabeth's broken body in the flickering firelight. Andrew's leonine fangs had torn her flesh, shredded it, and opened a bleeding maw in her right flank. It was a miracle she hadn't instantly bled out; the injury would be fatal, no doubt about it. John could smell the blood as it soaked into the plush carpeting.

"It's okay, John." Elizabeth's breathing was labored, her pulse erratic.

"This is what you saw. Your vision, when you touched the fetish." Constantine leaned over his wife's fallen form, wrapping his arms under her shoulders and lifting her, trying to ease her breathing. "I told you not to come with me!"

"Doesn't matter now." Her eyes closed against the pain, the effort of talking exhausting what was left of her strength. "Till death do us part."

"That line _wasn't_ in our vows," John growled, blinking against the hot tears blurring his vision. He cradled her closer, in anguish, at a total loss on what to do. There was no way to save Elizabeth, not from this mortal wound.

John had never cried over the loss of his other friends; he'd only let the guilt and grief burn in his heart day and night. Now it came back upon him ten fold, the physical pain overwhelming him, the emotions making his very soul ache. He tried to wipe the blood from Elizabeth's lips but only succeeded in smearing it.

"I... I was falling in love with you," the redhead confessed, her eyes fluttering open long enough for her gaze to meet John's. He shook his head, a soft cry of grief escaping him. "You were a good husband..."

Pulling her closer, Constantine kissed her, cupping her cheek in his palm. He could feel the weakness in her muscles as her head lolled on her neck. Elizabeth tried to return the kiss but couldn't, her strength gone.

Leaning back, John watched the crystal blue eyes darken, the last sparks of life in them fade. Elizabeth sagged in his arms, a soft sigh escaping her bloodied lips.

Crushing her to him, John Constantine howled, a sound of pain and grief. Overwhelmed by the emotions piling on top of him, he choked on a sob as he rocked the dead redhead's body, his arms tight around her broken form.

Not again, not another loss. It was too much for Constantine to bear.

_John._

He heard a voice call his name, a whispery sound that was more in his mind then spoken aloud. He ignored it, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around the redhead.

_John Constantine._

"No." He growled softly, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

_Look at me, husband._

John's head snapped up, looking around, searching. To his left, illuminated not by the fire he'd set in the broken pews but by some internal light, stood the ghostly image of Elizabeth.

"No!" Constantine shouted, still holding onto the corpse. "I don't want another goddamn ghost haunting me!"

The transparent visage of his dead wife shook her head. Warm light came down in shafts from the vaulted ceiling, as though the roof had been opened. John knew it hadn't; it was just the veil between Earth and Heaven lifted. He scowled, his eyes dark, anger clouding his vision.

_I have to go now, John._ Elizabeth's ghostly form started to rise towards the peaceful scenery of clouds and golden buildings. Constantine watched for a few seconds before he grabbed the cord around his neck and pulled hard, snapping it.

"I don't care who you think you are, _you can't have her_!" He yelled at the Heavenly plain, gently laying Elizabeth's body on the floor. The room was beginning to fill heavily with smoke, the fire spreading uncontrollably. John coughed hard, raising his hand high, holding the ivory charm aloft.

" _Quantum in me est, expeto tui spondeo!"_

_Her ascent stopped suddenly, the whole sanctuary shook gently, like a small earthquake._

_John repeated the Latin incantation. "Quantum_ _in me est, expeto tui spondeo!" The image of the Heavenly plane skewed, the colors changing before they darkened. Elizabeth's ghost cried out._

_Pushing himself up, getting to his feet, John shook his fist, the charm bouncing against his knuckles._

" **QUANTUMN IN ME EST, EXPETO TUI SPONDEO!** **"**


	22. XXII

The sanctuary rattled and rolled, pews tipping into one another, parts of the floor cracking. The warm light winked out, the veil dropping back into place, hiding Heaven once again.

Constantine fell to his knees, cupping the small ivory charm in his hands. There wasn't much time. He crawled over to Elizabeth's body, sliding his hand down her side to find the gaping hole. Pausing, he kissed the ivory charm before he pushed it into the wound, as best he could with his fingers.

Patting his pocket, searching his coat, he couldn't find any anointing oil. The one thing he hadn't put on the list.

"Damn it," he growled. The fire was growing larger, beginning to rage out of control. His time was growing limited by the second, if he wanted to get them out of the sanctuary before it was engulfed in flames.

Ripping Elizabeth's shirt down the middle, John pushed the ragged edges away and dipped his fingers into the bloodied wound. Starting at her breastbone he drew the strokes of the sigils and symbols quickly, as best he could. Midnite's instructions were clear in his mind, the words forming on his lips quickly as he began to chant the spoken invocation of the initial part of the spell.

As he swiped the last stroke of the final symbol, the bloodied drawings sparkled before bursting into magical flames. They glowed blue, burning into Elizabeth's skin, through her physical being. John placed his hands over the open wound he had stuffed the charm into and began to chant the second spoke part of the invocation the required number of times.

The symbols he'd drawn on Elizabeth's skin flared a second time, charring her skin as they burned. A gust of wind rushed into the sanctuary, stoking the flames of the fire as it grew around them, blowing away the ashes of burned skin.

Elizabeth gasped hard, sucking air into her reanimated lungs. Feeling the fatal wound begin to knit together, John removed his hand and watched as the muscles and bone knitted and reformed, her body healing itself through Midnite's protective magic. The tusk bracelets on her arms glowed from fiery red to molten gold as the wound finished healing.

The redhead coughed, struggling to sit up. John raised her, holding her by the shoulders as she spat out the blood that had clogged her mouth and throat.

"There we go."

Elizabeth hacked up another gob of dried blood, spitting it on the carpet. "John? What happened? I was dead."

"Later. We need to make a hasty exit." Removing his coat, Constantine pulled it around the redhead's upper body, covering her. Getting to his feet, his body protested, aching and bruised from the battle. He was going to be so sore come morning. Helping Elizabeth to her feet, his arm around her waist, John took up the shotgun in his other hand.

"Is there even a way out?" Elizabeth looked around at the roaring flames. Most of the exits were blocked, but single a pathway remained. Both of them started coughing, choking on the heavy smoke.

"Stay down as best you can." John ordered, taking her hand and leading her along the narrow path between the pews. The fire was engulfing the center stage now, the light fixtures overhead dropping, as the flames crawled up the walls and spread to the ceiling.

John fired the shotgun, blasting open the singular door that lead to the small room where he had ducked Elizabeth into the second time they'd met. Smoke poured out of the sanctuary, starting to fill the side room. Pulling her along, the couple ran through the exit door on the opposite side, right into the plush lobby.

It was empty, devoid of life, human or otherwise. The rats had abandoned the sinking ship.

They stopped long enough to breathe in fresh air. "Get us a cab, will you?" John asked, buttoning the coat to cover Elizabeth.

"There's one waiting, round the corner." She answered without pause. John took her hand and they exited the church complex at a steady jog. A yellow cab was waiting, the driver looking around, confused. Constantine waved at him, as they reached the car. The driver pointed at the golden shotgun.

"You ain't getting in here with that thing."

"Yes, _he is_." Elizabeth replied in a forceful tone. The driver's gaze went blank for a second before it snapped back into focus.

"Where to?" He asked, as the couple climbed in the backseat.

John gave him the address as the driver pulled away from the curb. As the car turned the corner, the redhead and the exorcist shared a glance. Constantine looked over his bloodied and resurrected bride and gave her a crooked smile.

"I kept my promise."

"You fought God to do so." Elizabeth brushed away a smudge from John's cheek.

"He can't have you yet."

Five blocks away, the building complex of Our Father's Church exploded into a fireball that lit the sky for miles around. A massive plume of thick, black smoke followed, forming a cloud that expanded each second. Elizabeth nor John flinched at the resounding roar that sounded between the buildings, shook the pavement under the cab's tires. The driver braked hard, the cab screeching to a stop. People on the street stopped, turning round to point at the smoke. Sirens filled the air as emergency vehicles raced to the scene.

The redhead laid her head against John's chest, her arms wrapped round his waist. The exorcist smiled, smoothing her tangled hair back with his hand.

"What the fuck was that!" The cab driver twisted in his seat, trying to look out the back window.

"Just drive." Constantine ordered calmly, laying his head to the top of Elizabeth's, closing his eyes.


	23. XXIII

John padded back to the bed, where Elizabeth lay propped up against the pillows. The sheets were tangled, still damp from their recent efforts. Setting the open bottle of Cabernet on the nightstand, Constantine got back into bed, his arm going around the redhead's shoulders.

Her breathing was growing even again. She laid her head back against his shoulder, settling against his frame. He thought she was beautiful, her hair mussed from his hands, her lips swollen from so many kisses. There would be work ahead of them, in most aspects of their relationship, but sex wouldn't require effort. That part was becoming effortless.

John took notice of what he'd missed. Tugging the linen down, he uncovered Elizabeth's chest. She squeaked in surprise, trying to cover herself.

"Wait, let me see."

"John!"

The exorcist pulled her arms down gently, examining the scabbed over skin in the pattern that ran down the center of her breastbone. Brushing them with his fingertip, the scabs rubbed away, revealing the sigils and symbols he'd drawn as part of the invocation had become permanent. They were black, as though inked into the redhead's skin.

"I'll be damned."

"Not funny," Elizabeth chided, trying to look down at what John was staring at, the angle difficult. "What are those?"

"Part of the process." Constantine traced over the marks. They didn't smudge. The skin was healed.

"What?" Elizabeth blinked. "Wait, the charm Midnite gave you. Where is it?"

John didn't answer, turning away and pouring himself some wine into one of the glasses he'd put on the nightstand. He took a large swallow, going over how to explain to his actions to his wife.

"John, answer me."

Reaching out, Constantine touched the tusk bracelet that encircled Elizabeth's right arm. "Midnite's gift."

"I don't understand."

John examined the bracelet under his fingers. It was clean again, the ash washed away from the shower Elizabeth had taken before they'd hopped into bed. The marks carved into it were still dark; the stains that made them stand out from the yellowed ivory untouched by soap and water.

"John, what are you talking about? Where is the charm?"

Sliding his hand down her arm, away from the bracelet to the flesh of her torso, the place that bore no trace of the fatal wound, Constantine sighed. Secrets wouldn't work in this relationship. He had to learn to trust, at least as much as he could.

"In here." He answered, closing his eyes and pressing gently, feeling the charm's outline under his touch. Elizabeth gasped, pressing her fingers to her side, feeling what John felt.

"What? Why!"

"God wasn't getting you. Not after all this, not after such a short time, not after He _gave_ me the _one_ person that might actually grow to love... _me_." John didn't care that his tone was bitter; he _was_ angry. "I played my last card, the backup plan Midnite gave us as a wedding gift."

Elizabeth leaned back, away from John's touch. He could see the confusion in her eyes. "What did you do?"

"Put your soul in the charm. Out of God's reach."

The redhead blinked, her lips parted as to ask a question, but no words came out. She touched the written incantation magically inked into her skin, felt her way down to where the charm was embedded inside her. "You trapped my soul?"

"Yeah."

The silence was a long one. "So if I die, physically, my soul is trapped in there?"

John sipped from the wine glass, preparing an explanation, reassurances. None of it would help.

" _Yeah,_ " he finally answered.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together, studying his face, finding only the stark truth of the matter written on his features. It wasn't a fact that could have been delivered softly. Constantine didn't try to hide the anguish he felt about it.

"You kept your promise, you brought me out alive."

"I did."

Elizabeth nodded, taking his hand up and placing his palm on her chest, holding it there. He could faintly feel the beating of her heart, was surprised by how it comforted him.

"We'll deal with the consequences later." The redhead assured him.

" _Much_ later."

John tensed as the redhead's hands cupped his face, guiding him closer before she leaned in and kissed him. It wasn't the reaction he had been prepared for; most people would object to this kind of supernatural interference involving their souls, but Elizabeth seemed capable of handling it better then most.

Putting the wine glass back on the nightstand, Constantine pulled her over by the waist, settling her down on the mattress as he moved over her. She was still here, still on this side of reality, _w _ith__ him. Parting while they rearranged themselves into a more intimate position, John caught her looking at him, questions in her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to share your thoughts with me?"

Constantine grinned wryly. " _These_ particular thoughts? Yeah."


	24. Epilogue

Overnight, Los Angeles began to remove the wool from its eyes. The ones who had been the least affected by Andrew's presence went back to the old ways, most of the city soon following. Within a month, LA was once again the city with thousands of sins. The movie industry went back to making uninspired and unoriginal remakes of movies they'd made in the past, abandoning the religious themes and promptly putting out a teen sex comedy starring Lindsay Lohan.

The porn industry had no trouble regaining its niche in the Valley and thrust back into full speed without blinking an eye. Sure, there were holdouts in all the industries that never did go back, but for the most part, everything returned to normal. Sin sold much better then salvation. Remaining traces of Andrew and his followers faded into history, glossed over just like a fashion fad on the red carpet.

Los Angeles returned from loving thy neighbor to steal from thy neighbor, don't get caught and don't care who it hurts.

***

"Are you really sure about this?" Elizabeth peered over the top of her sunglasses at him.

"I'm always sure, sweetheart." Constantine exited the taxi, holding the door open for her. She slid out as he paid the driver through the front window.

"Uh huh." They walked towards the large front doors of the Los Angeles County Courthouse. "I'll ask you that again afterwards."

John Constantine smirked, holding the door open as she ducked under his arm and went inside. The directory gave them the office suite number. As they walked in the right direction, he caught her hand and held it.

"Closet romantic." She smirked as they reached the suite.

"For that smart-ass remark, you're going on top when we get home."

"In your dreams, buddy."

"It most certainly does happen in my dreams, and now it will become reality." Constantine popped a Chicklet free of the foil pack and pressed it to her lips. She faked a defiant look before opening her mouth. He grinned, placing it on her tongue. As payback, she teasingly sucked his fingertip. "Oh, that's not playing fair!"

Elizabeth smirked as they stepped forward to the front of the line. "What would you know about fair, Mr. Constantine?"

"Next?" the clerk behind the counter called out. "How may I help you?"

Constantine stepped forward to the counter, Elizabeth beside him. "Yeah, can you tell me how much it's gonna cost me to legalize me and my bride in the eyes of Los Angeles County?"

**THE END**


End file.
